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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23522605">Through the Darkness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseArmsOfMine/pseuds/TheseArmsOfMine'>TheseArmsOfMine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dracula &amp; Related Fandoms, Dracula (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bad Humor, Count Dracula in The Big Easy, Eventual Smut, F/M, Let's see what debauchery that naughty vamp will get himself into, Some gore and death and blood and violence, drugs and alcohol, sort of a slow burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:28:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23522605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseArmsOfMine/pseuds/TheseArmsOfMine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Count Dracula survives the events with Zoe Van Helsing, much to his displeasure, and so he journeys onward finding a small, luscious city called New Orleans. What happens when he finds a familiar face that he thought he'd never see again? A story of redemption, friendship, betrayal, passion, food, and, of course, quite a bit of death. He is a vampire, after all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dracula/Original Character(s), Dracula/Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Singing City</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There is a beat to New Orleans that reverberates in the soul of the city. It is felt in the sidewalks, the earth beneath constantly moving and writhing and creating cracks in the cement that bounce right up to meet the air. Feet dance around the crevices and move forward with a melodic thump, thump, thump. Like a heartbeat. It’s all around. Effortless.</p>
<p>Dracula took an unnecessary deep breath and exhaled with a grin. Yes, it reminded him exactly of a heartbeat - strong, thumping, certain, thriving. The humans walking all around him, each on their own rhythm and sequence, leading them all in different directions but somehow each one seemed to be pulsating towards the same thing. </p>
<p>He stood atop the steps near the river, across from the chapel of St. Louis Cathedral - the iconic towers peering down upon the people below and gleaming brightly in its false righteousness. A mimicry of the depravity that daily occurred below. </p>
<p>The strong current of the Mississippi River flowed steadily down and outward towards the gulf. It was rugged and muddled with red and brown. The Count reminisced of how much blood had helped taint the color. Tilting his head slightly, he briefly pondered how many people he himself had thrown into the unrelenting waters. </p>
<p>Speaking of which, he realized with a short huff that he was running late for a meeting with some potential clients. Adjusting his jacket against the unnaturally brisk winter air that settled in the city, his menacingly dark figure cut through the growing crowds with ease as he sauntered down the cobblestone road and into the courtyard of the old French Quarter apartment building. His lawyer, a descendent of Renfield and who conveniently had the same name, was waiting dutifully for his master’s arrival with three large decanters full of fresh blood.</p>
<p>“Ah hello there, dark lord, how was the Quarter this evening? The chill seemed to have driven away a lot of the tourists and locals alike - “ Renfield began his pleasantries, even though he knew it was futile but he loathed the awkward silence that loomed around whenever the vampire was near. The Count held up a dismissive hand and snatched up the closest decanter, taking a sip before his lips turned down. “Oh yes, that was a-“</p>
<p>“A local politician who did not know how to take care of himself. Seriously, Renfield, this is horrible - it’s even starting to congeal!” </p>
<p>“Apologies, sir, but he was the easiest specimen to acquire the knowledge of families you have been…researching in your endeavor to control the city.” The mousy little man stood and wrung his hands together nervously, he then motioned to the second decanter, “As a way to wash the filthy taste from your mouth, I found a fiery little salsa dancer and a philosopher from the university to perhaps appease your appetite a little more appropriately.”</p>
<p>Dracula rolled his eyes. As if he really wanted to ponder the insecurities of mortals who are so desperate to know why things are the way they are. He then shrugged, not in the mood at all to continue this conversation, and downed the decanters back to back. It had been a long day and he was rather parched. </p>
<p>Surprisingly, as far as palettes go, it was not a bad mix - almost like a little charcuterie board of mixed personalities. They blended together rather well, though he would never admit to his eager…assistant. Now armed with the knowledge he had been searching for the past few months, he also had a little pep to his step along with an optimistically insightful outlook on this previously bleak evening. </p>
<p>“Is it to your satisfaction, master?” Renfield tittered nervously on the outskirts of Dracula’s peripheral, close but not quite hovering. He knew better than that by now, which was worlds better than his predecessor. The Count raked a hand through his dark hair and licked his lips, a thoughtful look upon his face.</p>
<p>“I think tonight will be, ah, transcendent.” With a self-satisfied smirk, he threw his jacket back on and swept out of the room without another word. His oxfords hit the flagstone on Royal Street with a catchy little click-clack, the sweet sounds of a trumpet echoing through Jackson Square, and the cheerful chattering of people beginning their adventures in the French Quarter. Dracula felt invigorated, exhilarated, inspired. After waiting and planning for months, this night had finally come, and with it his way into the city’s cabal that not-so-secretly ran all of the happenings in New Orleans - including the supernatural order. Yes, it was going to be an interesting evening. </p>
<p>It had been a good few decades since the incident with Zoe. He wouldn’t lie, he was rather disappointed when he ended up surviving the event, not when he was ready to kick the proverbial bucket. However, it seemed like fate decided the world wasn’t giving up the great Count Dracula just yet. So he had the first Renfield contact the Foundation to take care of her corpse and then promptly disappeared before they arrived.</p>
<p>When faced with eternity, one must never stay stagnant. He decided that England was a tad too dull for his tastes. There was so much more in the world to see! Conveniently, he soon found the perfect opportunity in a city across the Atlantic called New Orleans. From what he gathered, it was a French and Spanish influenced area down in the south of the United States of America. It sounded exciting, but what he found was even better than he could have imagined. </p>
<p>The Big Easy was singularly the most debaucherous civilization Dracula had found thus far. Never in his life had he seen humans act so recklessly and uninhibited. It was thoroughly entertaining and he reveled in the illicit society. But there was something more to it than just the freely found recklessness. The city felt like a magnet pulling him in, the air settled around differently, smells and sights and sounds hit with a mysterious and warm glow. He was an unstoppable force and met his immovable object within the borders of this boisterous city.</p>
<p>There was more to it that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but Dracula shook his head as he turned into the garage. That was quite enough abstract thinking for the evening. With a content sigh, he clicked the key fob and the lights of his Rolls Royce Phantom flashed brightly back at him. Back to business. </p>
<p>He cruised down the streets and away from the ever-growing crowds of the downtown. Pulling onto St. Charles Avenue, he tapped his fingers along to some jazz song playing softly on the radio. Dracula had to admit he did enjoy the music scene here; he briefly wondered if Mozart would find the incongruity maddening or endearing. No matter. Dracula enjoyed the complexity and it suited this place. </p>
<p>As he drove, the buildings sank lower and lower into the Earth and started morphing into magnificent mansions hiding behind the towering oak trees. Their robust and impressive branches spread out across the road reaching out towards the others just across the street. Eventually, he turned and pulled up to the curb of a dark establishment, his sleek red car glimmered under the flickering gas lamps that illuminated the front entrance to the restaurant. </p>
<p>The valet opened the door for Dracula, and he gazed seriously at the young man while handing over the keys “Keep it close, would you? I’d hate for anything to spoil this evening.”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir, of course, it won’t leave my sight. I promise you that, sir!” </p>
<p>The Count leaned closer, glanced down at the name tag, and then back up to the nervous kid, “I shall hold you to it, Eric.”</p>
<p>His gulp was audible and Dracula relished the fear, the rapid thumping of a heartbeat music to his ears. The vampire flashed a pointy smile and spun towards the entrance, grasping the lapels of his suit to smooth out any wrinkles from the drive. </p>
<p>The lanterns danced light across the enormous front doors. the windows had long curtains darkening the frames for privacy, and the only hint that this was an establishment and not a residence, was the sloped cursive sign hung above the double doors. It was a dark maroon color, almost black, and elegantly spelled out the name, Sanguine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Deja Vu</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>Holy shit it was getting hot in here</i>, Roxana thought as she wiped her face with the crisp white towel and then tossed it on the table with a sigh. Even though it was starting to freeze outside, her kitchen was scorching. Absently, she hoped that the pipes wouldn’t burst again, which had already happened twice this winter. </p><p>All the food was prepped and ready for the guests that evening, she went through and turned up all the ovens so they’d be set by the time everyone would begin to arrive. Roxana glanced at the clock and then looked over the menu once more before grabbing her jacket and walking out back to smoke a cigarette. </p><p>“Well this cold weather can kindly fuck right off.” She grumbled, fighting the wind to flick her lighter. After a few more clicks and curses, she succeeded and took a long drag. She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes for a moment, leaning back against the back door.</p><p>It had been many long years of busting her ass to get to where Roxana was today: the proud owner and executive chef of her own thriving restaurant. She should feel carefree as usual. But there was just something off about this night, she couldn’t help but feel on edge all day long and when she brushed it off earlier, she was unable to shake the intensity in which it grew. </p><p>Thus the cigarette. Roxana usually tried to moderate her vices, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t chief down almost an entire pack already that day.</p><p>“Bitch I thought you quit smoking!” So much for a moment to herself.</p><p>Roxana turned to see her sous-chef walking towards her, all bundled up so that no inch of skin showed, and he was shivering quite dramatically all the while glaring daggers at her. “Look at you being on time! Guessing the streetcar froze up and left your cheap ass with getting a cab?” </p><p>“Ha fucking ha.” He burrowed even further into his down jacket and impatiently waited for her to move away from the door, “That streetcar was packed up tighter than Cooter’s on a game night, baby, I nearly had to fight someone’s granpaw to get up in there. Honestly now, what could be so urgent? He ninety. Well? Are you gonna fucking get out the way or what, Rox? I’ll be no use to you with frozen fingers, I’ll tell you what!”</p><p>She chuckled and tossed the butt in the trash before gallantly opening the door. He wasted no time rushing in and placing his hands close to the ovens. Al Patrone had been her kitchen partner at their previous job and if it had not been for his endlessly entertaining sass, she would have never made it in that horrid place. They became thick as thieves from years of bickering back and forth over the fires.</p><p>So it was no surprise that when Roxana told Al her plans to start her a new restaurant, he immediately pick up his knives and followed her out. Even though he had been with the establishment for nearly a decade, Al didn’t bat an eye when he gave them the finger and left.  The owner was a xenophobic and misogynistic piece of shit anyways. Fuck him. </p><p>The idea was presented to her, Roxana somehow ended up in the right place at the right time, because that’s how these things usually happen. While she was throwing back tequila shots at the Monteleone, she met some famous actor - not that she gave the damn, his name was Tom…or was it George? - they chatted the evening away. The next day she invited him to the restaurant she had worked to show him some local cuisine. </p><p>Even though he was positively salivating over her seared pompano, the man constantly bemoaned to her about the lack of small and intimate restaurants in New Orleans. He wasn’t wrong. Most of the fancy to-do joints all sat three to six hundred people a shift and seemed to have a turnover rate higher than a pornstar. </p><p>The guy basically wanted a butler and in-home chef, but not actually be at his home. To all the peasants working in the food industry, the idea was laughable.</p><p>“Oh and how would I keep up the bills with serving just one table a night, huh?” She had huffed and signaled for another round of shots. “Seems like some whimsically ludicrous pipe dream to me.”</p><p>He had looked her dead in the eye, suddenly sober enough for the moment, “If you can cook the way you do in this shit hole, then darlin’ I can only imagine what you could whip up when you’ve got nothing holding you back. I know people who would pay the building’s rent in a single night after eating just one of your meals. I’m fucking serious.”</p><p>Who was she to deny that sort of opportunity?</p><p>Roxana had gotten a steal of a deal on the building and simply fell in love with the neighborhood. It was in the Irish Channel down closer to the river with a breathtaking view of the Crescent City Connection bridge. The property was an old Spanish colonial styled building with dark red stucco that faded in areas revealing the old brick beneath. High white arches lined the front entrance, the gas lanterns flickered shadows against the ceiling and danced when the large canopy fans spun lazily. </p><p>It seemed to almost slink into the darkness of the night, hiding in plain sight amongst the other homes on the street. The large and ominous oak trees stood guard out front, their branches were natural curtains and their roots fenced in the broken sidewalks like a front yard.</p><p>The interior was a stark contrast with light gray brick walls with natural reds scattered across, aspen wood flooring, and industrial piping that lined the walls with vintage light bulbs. Very bright and open in a comforting coffee-shop sort of feel.</p><p>There was just one large black table that severed the room in half. The chairs assembled around the exterior of the rectangle while the inside had a long walkway down to the front. Similar to hibachi-style but instead of the large grill top, there was an empty space that allowed Roxana and Al to personally serve each dish directly. </p><p>In the back, the kitchen gleamed and sparkled, the burners all neatly arranged on the large island in the middle of the room reflected the lights above and glimmered like diamonds. Roxana would meticulously scrub everything down every night before finally closing so it would always remain spotless. </p><p>It was simple and elegant, intimate and relaxed. She put her blood, sweat, and tears into the remodel and hoped beyond all hope that it wouldn’t all have been for nothing. Roxana had a strange sort of optimism about the project, something she had never felt before, and so she decided on naming her restaurant Sanguine. </p><p>True to her friend’s word, he made a few calls to some of his famous friends and told them to come down. One thing led to another and it blew up. These prominent and wealthy clients started to come in droves, they craved the exclusiveness, and they would happily pay beaucoup money for it. It all worked out flawlessly.</p><p>They decided on hiring just a hostess and valet, while Al helped Roxana run the kitchen and service. She took good care of her employees and in turn they treated her with the utmost respect, making sure that everything was impeccably done and ran smoothly.</p><p>That was three years ago and business was still very much booming.</p><p>“Are you gonna stop daydreaming and help me whip up these fucking cakes?” Al shouted over the music that he <i>insisted</i> on blasting full volume as soon as he put on his white double-breast chef jacket. </p><p>“Oh calm yourself before your sweat ruins my recipe.”</p><p>Al’s eye grew wide in offense, “My sweat would give this bland shit some real <i>flavor</i>, honey.” </p><p>Roxana barked out a laugh and grabbed a bowl. The two friends began to work together in easy synchronization. Shortly after, the hostess named Angeline peeked into the kitchen to tell them that the guests had begun to arrive and then returned to start seating. </p><p>Al finally turned down the tunes to a reasonable level for a restaurant, but there was still a ringing noise echoing in Roxana’s ear. She shook her head and pulled the amuse-bouche out of the oven. </p><p>They were having a smaller table than normal this evening with only five people, some local politicians that she had served before - the mayor, his wife, his popular defense attorney buddy, and two other names that she did not recognize.  </p><p>While they put all the finishing touches on the first two courses, the chefs could hear the absent chattering and boisterous laughter of their guests. However, one voice in particular caught their attention with its luscious baritone.</p><p>“Well hello there.” It was slightly muted behind the walls but the British accent was unmistakable. Al looked over to Roxana and waggled his eyebrows, she laughed and waved him off. </p><p>“Good evening, sir, you must be Mr. Balaur. We’ve been expecting you, please come in!” Angeline’s cheerful voice lilted at a slightly higher pitch than normal. </p><p>Al elbowed Roxana, “You know what that means, baby girl, we finna have a looker!”</p><p>She wiped away a smudge on the plate before nodding in satisfaction at the finished product, “What about that frenchman with the yacht last week you were schmoozing?”</p><p>“Rox, please, that boy was twink-city-slams and should’ve stayed over at Tulane by them frats.” Al finished decorating with a little dusting of paprika on the remoulade and sighed dramatically, “I have moved on to bigger and better. Just need to pop down to Oz and find myself a <i>daddy</i>.” </p><p>“What you need is therapy.”</p><p>“I already have a therapist.” Roxana rose a brow, her smile crooked goofily at her eclectic friend’s antics. Al popped a hip and gave her a look over his shoulder, “And her name is tequila, baby.”</p><p>She laughed openly and smacked him on the arm, “Alright, alright, let’s get this dinner going, you scoundrel.”</p><p>They filled their arms with plates and made their way towards the dining room.</p><p>With every step, the ringing in her ears grew louder and louder. Roxana frowned and tried stretching her shoulders to shake it off, but no avail. The two turned the corner and placed the plates down in front of each guest, then took a step back to politely let the clients quiet their conversations. </p><p>As the chatter died down, Roxana could still only hear the roaring sound that permeated the cavity of her brain. Her arms lit up with goosebumps. <i>What the actual fuck is happening?</i> Her mind was frantic as she looked around at the faces of those dining, a chill crept up her spine in anticipation, and the hairs on the back of her neck shot straight up when her eyes met the sight before her.</p><p>Then everything was silent. Save for her heartbeat, which suddenly spiked as if she took off for a marathon. <i>Thump, thump, thump, thumpity.</i> </p><p>“Oh fuck.” She didn’t even hear herself whisper.</p><p>But it caught the man’s attention and drew it from the woman seated next to him, his head tilted and ears perked at the sound of the beating drum within Roxana’s chest. </p><p>Slowly, he turned his gaze towards her with a lazy smirk that almost immediately slipped from his face as hers came into focus. His jaw dropped slightly, gaping like a fish out of water for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed and his dark eyes softened in wonder. “<i>Agatha?</i>”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Ruda de Sânge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was an awkward pause that suspended the room in time. Roxana’s brain was running in overdrive and her nerves were completely shot, but she managed to convince her lungs to return to function and smiled. “My name is <i>Roxana von Hels</i> and welcome to Sanguine.”</p>
<p>Dracula couldn’t believe his eyes. <i>Another Van Helsing?</i> The resemblance was unmistakable and suddenly the image of Zoe’s corpse lying in the morning sun flashed in his mind. However, this woman before him was very much <i>alive</i>. Her cherubic features and rosy cheeks were a vast difference from the pale, waifish complexions of the nun and scientist. The lack of sunshine in both Eastern Europe and England probably attributed to that, but even so, this <i>Roxana</i> had a certain glow that was unlike the others. </p>
<p>He barely caught her words as she continued on about the dishes placed in front of him and his dinner companions. Not that he cared, because it wasn’t like he was actually going to eat any of it. Dracula didn’t even spare a glance at the food, for the sight before him was too delicious and he wasn’t going to miss a single moment.</p>
<p>As she spoke, he could still hear her heart hammering away inside her chest and his lips quirked, it seemed that she knew exactly who he was. Very curious. A million questions flooded his mind and he was ravenous for answers. </p>
<p>After everything that happened with Agatha and Zoe, he shouldn’t be surprised to find another descendent of that incessant lineage. Was he doomed to run in circles with these women again and again for all of eternity? </p>
<p>“Now, I hope you all enjoy, my colleague and I will be preparing the other courses in the kitchen. Should you need anything, Angeline will be happy to assist. Bon appétit!” Roxana clapped her hands and made to turn when Dracula’s deep voice stopped her short.</p>
<p>“Um, pardon me, <i>Miss von Hels</i>, might I have a word-?”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Mr. Balaur, but this is New Orleans,” She cut him off smoothly with a smile, not knowing what gave her a sudden bout of courage but she was going to roll with it, “And <i>dinner</i> precedes conversation. Please enjoy.”</p>
<p>A breath of a laugh escaped Dracula as his head tilted slightly, the words all too familiar to him and before he could speak again, she turned and fled. The mayor, his wife, and the attorney all chuckled boisterously, digging into their meals and sloppily clinking their glasses of wine, the dark red splashing all over. </p>
<p>Smiling to himself, Dracula knew she couldn’t hide from him forever and he didn’t mind practicing a little patience. After all, the pawn had finally crossed the board and turned into another queen; the game was afoot.</p>
<p>“<i>So</i>, who is Agatha?” Ah yes, he might have forgotten about the woman next to him.</p>
<p>——</p>
<p>“Who the fuck was <i>that?</i>” Al exploded as soon as the two were out of hearing range, but Roxana could not be bothered with her friend at the moment. Her fingers dug into her hair and nearly ripped handfuls out as she tugged on the strands helplessly. </p>
<p>This couldn’t be happening. It <i>shouldn’t</i>. But she had known that someday it might. Her grandmother always warned her that <i>he</i> would find her, but Roxana had been skeptical after hearing those folk tales all her life. It’s not like she actually believed any of the bayou voodoo hoopla! Who in their right mind would?</p>
<p>But she could still hear her grandmother’s voice telling her, <i>“Someday when you’re grown, my sweet baby girl, that dirty rotten heathen will find you just like he found your ancestors. He will come in the night. He will try to steal your blood and your soul, but you must never ever give in, you hear me? That nasty vampire ain’t never going to get my grandbaby, no sir, Dracula better steer clear.”</i></p>
<p>The tales were one thing, as a child growing up around cajun folklore stories, something as laughable as a vampire was just that. A joke. Albeit a pretty fucked up joke, if Roxana was being perfectly honest with herself. But of course, to her misfortune, those myths became reality when two men in suits from the Harker Foundation came knocking on her door. </p>
<p>As a precaution, they wanted to inform the youngest Van Helsing after certain recent events that involved her not-so-distant relative. They showed her footage of the night he emerged from the ocean outside of London, they showed her the footage of him at the foundation, they showed her photos of his victims strung across London, and they showed her just one image of what looked like herself sprawled out on a table in a pool of blood and a gaping hole in her neck. The last photo was Zoe Van Helsing, as Roxana came to learn, and she was left for the Foundation to find after Dracula vanished. She was very much <i>dead</i>.</p>
<p>All of a sudden it was very, <i>very</i> real. Vampires existed. Supernatural creatures wandered the world and feasted on humans to survive. The world was abruptly tilted and Roxana did not know what to do with this information. Neurons fired far more rapidly than her brain could keep up and she battled the urge to vomit all over their fancy suits.</p>
<p>They assured her that Dracula had no idea who she was or where she lived, that the whole debriefing was purely preliminary, but if she did come in contact with him then she should contact them immediately. They gave her a business card and walked back out of her life. </p>
<p>As if they hadn’t ripped the metaphorical rug from right under her feet and then just fucked off leaving her with nothing but a small, disappointing rectangle to fight these newfound demons. </p>
<p>Hands grabbing her shoulders and giving her an almost violent shake brought her back to Earth and she realized where she was. His eyes were nearly bugging out of his head, “Yo what is your problem right now? You look like someone told you they was bout to set a scorpion loose in your snatch, girl, you freaking me the fuck out!”</p>
<p>“Sorry, I’m sorry, shit.” Roxana sighed and went over to the bar to pull the bottle of Jameson off the shelf. “It’s nothing, I’m fine, just let’s forget about it and finish this dinner.”</p>
<p>He gaped in disbelief as she threw back a shot and walked back to the grill like nothing happened, “Nothing?! Yeah, okay, and I’m Pope John Paul. First off, Mr. Dark and Stormy straight <i>eye-fucking</i> you back there should have been <i>illegal</i>. Secondly, I haven’t seen you take a shot of jamo in three years - you know why? Because we almost died that night you took me out to the levee and we chugged a bottle and you broke your foot and you vowed never to drink that devil’s juice ever again. That’s how I know you a lying ass hoe!”</p>
<p>She took a deep breath to calm herself and looked back over to her friend with a sincere expression, “<i>Please</i>, Al, let this one go. I cannot and will not explain to you why I acted that way in there and I really need you to just trust me on this.”</p>
<p>Al looked at her for a moment, gaging the severity in her gaze, he’d never seen her so shaken. He did trust her though and when he finally acquiesced, her shoulders sagged in relief. “Well, alright, <i>fine</i>. If you say so.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” Roxana meant it. The less Al knew about the vampire sitting out in their dining room, the better.</p>
<p>——</p>
<p>Dracula’s gaze slid over to the beauty seated to his left, it lingered on the curve of her neck and he felt slightly disappointed to hear the <i>lack</i> of a pulse. He had easily changed the subject from his misstep of calling their host by the wrong name, to a discussion of the future, specifically <i>their</i> future. </p>
<p>He had met Keres at a gala months before, she had lured him with her beauty and they both were pleasantly surprised when they each tried to take bites out of each other’s neck. This was a first for Dracula as he had never met anyone else like him; sure he had plenty of failed creations under his belt and he knew of all the unresting souls trapped in their tombs, but never had he seen someone who wasn’t…feral. But apparently, it was a thing. Who would’ve thought?</p>
<p>She was around two centuries old from a small village in Italy, Keres had told him, after years passed by and she had not aged, the townsfolk took to action and chased her away with the classic torches and pitchforks method. Eventually her travels took her to the new world, starting in Massachusetts and making her way down South after the witch hunts started getting a bit too tense for her tastes. Like Dracula, she found a certain comfort, so to speak, in the city of New Orleans…it was a circus and she loved being the star of the freak show. </p>
<p>As it turned out, the supernatural scene in The Big Easy was actually quite <i>lively</i> and she spent years thoroughly integrating herself into the culture. Time passed on and she started an organization to maintain a sort of order amongst the undead, lest they drink their fill and wipe out the entire population. Rules were set in place and those who failed to comply faced the consequences. </p>
<p>This was the topic of discussion for the evening. The mayor had a tedious relationship with the supernatural order and so he orchestrated this dinner party as a truce between kinds. He was trying desperately to maintain control of his city, but unfortunately he was unaware that it was no longer <i>his</i>. Keres just allowed him to maintain the illusion.</p>
<p>Dracula took a sip from the glass of blood before him. it was an appreciated effort from Keres to provide them both with a tangy forty-five businessman; quite the fitting vintage for this particular meeting. The attorney was discussing the necessities of making sure the bodies stay down, which was the vampires’ responsibility, and as a rebuttal, Dracula pointed out the nearness of the Mississippi River. </p>
<p>“Now, Mr. Balaur,” The man in the periwinkle suit smiled like a sleaze, “We can’t have these…animated bodies start floating up in the gulf or elsewhere. This is the twenty-first century and everyone’s been tagged up and geo-located in some way. They can be tracked back here very easily.”</p>
<p>The Count gave a resigned sigh and waved a hand absently, “Fine, fine, the river will be for <i>emergencies</i> only.”</p>
<p>The lawyer sputtered on his drink and Mayor Kendell laughed nervously, not completely sure if Dracula was joking or not. “Good fun, yes, good fun. Now we can agree that the locals are strictly off-limits -”</p>
<p>Dracula couldn’t help his incredulous laugh and Keres shot him a dark look in warning, but he waved her off as well, “What would you have us do, hm? Kindly check their identification before we sink our teeth in, I mean <i>honestly</i>, who has the time for that? It’s ridiculous.”</p>
<p>The mayor’s wife surprisingly nodded along with him and when her husband side-eyed her, she shrugged, “He’s got a point, you know.”</p>
<p>Keres swiftly cut in, her tone left no room for arguments and her eyes leveled the nervous humans. “What we will <i>agree</i> on, Mayor Kendell, is the policy of consent-only or the pre-deposited blood from donors. I have already procured documents of concurrence from the hospitals after a few generous donations from my organization.  Any creature of the supernatural shall have to accept these terms to live in our city, if not they will face exile or the stake. <i>Do we have an accord?</i>” </p>
<p>The mayor’s face turned almost purple as he struggled to formulate any sort of counterargument. Clearly, he had never been spoken to like that, much less by a woman. His wife sat back with a small smirk on her face and took another generous swig of her gin and tonic. Clearly, she was loving this, and strangely not at all perturbed by the conversation’s subject.</p>
<p>“If I may,” Dracula interjected, dragging his nail around the rim of his glass, “It has been brought to my attention that various members of your esteemed society, Mr. Mayor, have proclivities towards the, oh shall we say, <i>younger generation</i>.”</p>
<p>The tension in the room thickened. Keres’ perfectly-plucked brow rose slightly as this was news to her.</p>
<p>He put his hands up defensively, “Now, I could care less what dirty deeds you aristocrats get yourselves into, and trust me, I have quite the record on just how <i>depraved</i> you people really are. However,” The sound of his clap made the men jump in their seats, “I think that we can come to an agreement here. It would be such a shame if this information fell into the wrong hands, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>At that moment, the kitchen doors swung open again to reveal Roxana and Al carting in the rest of the meal. Dessert could not have come sooner, Dracula mused and downed the rest of his glass, his eyes once more trained only on <i>her</i>.</p>
<p>———</p>
<p>When they walked back in, Roxana was unsurprised to see the dish in front of Dracula hadn’t been touched, but what made her weary was the fact that the same could be said for the woman to his left. Well, that and their matching red-tinged glasses clearly did <i>not</i> have the same consistency as wine. </p>
<p>“How is everything so far?” </p>
<p>It was quiet for a beat until the mayor’s wife elbowed him in the side sharply and he coughed, “Very tasty, Miss von Hels, as always. Yes, yes, your filet was superb!”</p>
<p>She didn’t serve them a filet but she figured he was a little preoccupied with dining with <i>vampires</i> to pay attention anyways. Surely he knew what they were.</p>
<p>Still, Roxana smiled brightly, “I’m so pleased to hear, sir. For dessert we have our buttered, brown-sugar bananas flambeaux with a dark rum and a cinnamon vanilla ice cream to top it all off.”</p>
<p>Angeline swiftly gathered the dirty dishes, blushing when Dracula sent a wink her way and disappeared just as quickly back to the kitchens. A timid little thing, he thought detachedly, like a fawn running scared in the woods.</p>
<p>With a whoosh, flames erupted from the pan in Roxana’s hand and took his attention once again. Her brow furrowed, pinching her face in stern concentration as she skillfully flicked her wrist and the contents suspended in the air before snapping back into the pan. The fire rose higher for a moment longer and reflected back at her from the darkness of his eyes, before dissipating into smoke. </p>
<p>The mayor’s wife ooh’d and aah’d and clapped happily at the performance; four empty glasses were spread out in front of her on the table as a testimony for her belligerence. “Encore!”</p>
<p>Al dished everything out and returned the cart to the back, leaving Roxana so he could begin breaking down the kitchen. No one, except the drunk woman, touched their dessert. Instead, the mayor cleared his throat and looked over to Dracula, “I will agree to your terms, on the condition that we must have a summit dinner with the rest of the order. To break bread, so to speak.”</p>
<p>Roxana’s brow scrunched up again, but this time in confusion. <i>What on Earth were they talking about?</i> The elder vampire smiled almost whimsically at her disorientation. </p>
<p>Keres noticed how Dracula could not take his eyes off the chef, he seemed to not be able to focus on anything else in the room when she was present, and it was quite intriguing. “That sounds wonderful, Mr. Kendell, might I suggest using the same venue. This is, after all, such a <i>quaint</i> establishment.”</p>
<p>“Wait. What, now?”</p>
<p>“And I would like Mr. Balaur to oversee this event.” Keres nodded decisively and drank the last sip left in her glass, giving Roxana look that said <i>I dare you to oppose</i>.</p>
<p>Dracula grinned devilishly, “I would be delighted!”</p>
<p>“It is settled then. Mr. Kendell, if you’d like to coordinate your guest list with him, please do so when you are ready, and we shall reconvene at a later date. If that is all, I will take my leave.” Her no-nonsense voice left absolutely zero room for discussion and Keres elegantly strutted out of the building. The mayor looked green. He was next to shuffle out the door with his stumbling and giggling wife in tow. The attorney downed the rest of his whiskey and avoided his eyes, making for the exit as well.</p>
<p>“And then there were two.” Dracula’s tone was playful and his eyes were alight with mischief as he poured another glass for himself and licked his lips. He relished the way her heartbeat picked right back up again.</p>
<p>“Look,” Roxana began, giving him a stern look that just tickled him, “I know there are things we need to talk about…but first I need to send my employees home and clean up. I refuse to let them be caught up in whatever <i>this</i> is and I will not have a dirty kitchen.”</p>
<p>In the blink of an eye, he was right up in her personal space and had his hand around her neck. The man towered over her and tilted her head up to look directly into his dark eyes, “And why should I wait?”</p>
<p>He felt her gulp underneath his palm and his teeth habitually elongated, her heart thundered viciously within her chest as she tried desperately to control her breathing.</p>
<p>“Because you’re just as curious as I am, Count Dracula,” she placed her hand on his wrist, “And if you wanted to kill me, you would have done so already.”</p>
<p> “Perhaps I enjoy playing with my food first.” There was a beat and then he sighed, releasing her. She took a step back immediately and he bent his head towards her, not letting her put too much distance between them. “Don’t take too long, <i>Roxana</i>, we have much to discuss.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Deal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The night had a bitter chill in the air, the humidity making the cold seep into one's bones and no matter how many layers, it still would find a way under the skin. Eric stood close to the outdoor heater, rubbing his hands together frantically and blowing on his digits in an attempt to keep them warm.</p>
<p>It wasn't often that the temperature would drop this low in the South, but cruel when it did and most of the city's infrastructure was not built to deal with it. The people were not bred to survive in such frigid conditions; they were used to the scorching sun and a constant sweat. It sent a shock through the city's inhabitants and nearly crippled them.</p>
<p>The young valet was professional as ever, though, and battled through the unwelcome climate. He had the last car, the fancy half a million-dollar machine, all ready and warmed up for the customer. Now was just the waiting game. Except he wasn't looking forward to seeing that particular man again, there was just something about him that made Eric feel uneasy.</p>
<p>"Quite a crisp evening, wouldn't you say?" The sudden closeness of the dark figure made Eric nearly jump out of his skin and grasp at his chest in fright. "Did I frighten you? Terribly sorry."</p>
<p>
  <i>He didn't sound sorry at all.</i>
</p>
<p>The young man laughed shakily, "Not a problem, sir, I should've been paying more attention. Your car is all warmed up, I hope you enjoyed everything this evening!"</p>
<p>Dracula plucked the keys from the valet's hand, who took notice of his talons and his eyes widened. The count stepped closer and tilted his head down towards the boy, "It is unnecessary, though appreciated. Do try and stay warm tonight, this kind of weather can be rather <i>penetrating</i>."</p>
<p>Eric gulped audibly. "Y-yes, sir."</p>
<p>With a grin, Dracula straightened to his full height and clicked a button on the key fob to turn the car off. "No need to waste gas. I'll be waiting for a bit."</p>
<p>The kid just stood there awkwardly and shuffled his feet a bit before it dawned on Dracula, "Ah, yes, you would like a tip, hm?"</p>
<p>Without bothering for a response, he retrieved a folded hundred dollar bill from his breast pocket and held it out for the young man. Eric went to take it but found that the count would not let go and he glanced up with nervous eyes. Dracula inhaled deeply and leaned even closer, "Run along now, Eric, there are dangerous creatures out and about. We wouldn't want anything <i>unsavory</i> to happen."</p>
<p>The valet nodded frantically, his head bobbing up and down like a muppet, and once Dracula let go of the bill, the kid took off into the building without a second glance.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>Roxana's hands shook as she returned to the kitchen, the vampire's presence was a little <i>overwhelming</i>, to say the least, but something inside her itched with incorrigible curiosity. Yes, she was terrified, because she knew that man was most likely going to kill her. The Harker Foundation alluded as much. They told her he was a bloodthirsty beast with no remorse or self-control. He had killed her blood relatives, doppelgängers, <i>whatever the fuck</i>, and was now there to do it again. She probably shouldn't have tossed their business card in the trash.</p>
<p>But there was something that caught her off guard and made her wonder. Why did he look so surprised to see her if he had already been searching for her? But then she remembered how he then had the smugness of a cat catching the mouse. Maybe he was just going to toy with her before he went it for the kill.</p>
<p>She was damn near thrown off her balance as someone knocked into her side in a rush. "Eric? What's the matter with you?"</p>
<p>"I'm so sorry, Miss Rox, I wasn't paying attention." He seemed a little tense and she figured he had a run-in with the vampire. Her eyes quickly searched his neck for any open wounds and once she was satisfied that he was unharmed, Roxana patted him on the shoulder.</p>
<p>"No harm, no foul," She smiled kindly and his tension eased, "It's late, y'all should head home. I'll see you next week."</p>
<p>"Thanks, ma'am, have a great night!" Eric turned and shouted towards the freezer, "Oi, that creepy dude gave me a hundo - drinks on me tonight!"</p>
<p>Al shot out of the walk-in and nearly stumbled over his own feet, "Bitch, <i>what!</i> Let's go!"</p>
<p>The two grabbed their things and made their way towards the back door. Angeline was walking in after clocking out and threw on her jacket, "What do you mean 'creepy'? He was pretty damn fine, for like an older guy."</p>
<p>Al let out a whistle, "Oh girl, I feel you, I was just telling Rox that her mans is a daddy I'd like to <i>know</i>."</p>
<p>"He is not my-" Roxana started but it was too late, the other two whipped their heads around and gawked at their boss.</p>
<p>"<i>Oh my god!</i>" Angeline squealed and Eric looked slightly mortified.</p>
<p>"He's terrifying!"</p>
<p>"You've got a <i>boyfriend?!</i>"</p>
<p>"Lord <i>knows</i> baby girl needed to get her some of dat <i>good lovin'</i>."</p>
<p>"Holy shit, stop, please!" Roxana couldn't help but laugh as she tried to quell the three people hollering over one another. "Mr. Balaur and I are not doing <i>anything</i> of the sort, I can assure you. Now go on, the bars are calling."</p>
<p>The trio finally acquiesced and traded turns giving her a hug, making their departure for their after-work shenanigans, but as they were leaving Eric turned back once more, "Just to let you know, Mr. James-Bond-Villain is waiting for you out front."</p>
<p>Roxana rolled her eyes and waved back at the kid, "Thanks for the heads up, y'all be safe."</p>
<p>"You too, baby," She could hear Al's voice carry in from the alley, "Don't forget to use protection!"</p>
<p>Her employees' cackles could still be heard after the door finally shut and Roxana dropped her head onto the counter with a long-suffering sigh. She really hoped that wouldn't be the last time she saw them.</p>
<p>Shaking her head to try and rid the terrible thoughts from her brain, she set out to finish scrubbing down the kitchen and closing for the night. The busywork helped take her mind off the fact that she was about to face off with a fucking vampire afterward.</p>
<p>It took about another hour for her to be completely satisfied with the level of cleanliness and she finally took off her white chef jacket. Her eyes caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and her hand moved to pull a necklace out from under her shirt. The small golden cross flashed as she tilted it under the lights, her gaze focused sincerely on the little piece of jewelry.</p>
<p>"If there was ever a chance you might want to work, now would be a good time." She murmured, dragging her thumb across the shiny surface before she let it drop back down to hang against her collarbone and looked back at her own eyes. "Oh, who am I kidding?"</p>
<p>Roxana slid on her jacket and turned off the lights as she walked out the front doors of Sanguine. She had the strangest feeling almost like she was walking into battle.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>Sure enough, Dracula was waiting for her out front of the restaurant, just casually leaning against the side of his car and swiping on his phone. By the way he was flicking his finger to the right or left and the sly little smirk he was sporting, she assumed he was on Tinder. The thought of matching with a five-hundred-year-old vampire gave her a laugh and she caught Dracula's attention with her soft chuckle.</p>
<p>He grinned and tucked his phone into the breast pocket of his suavely fitted trench coat. "Hello, Roxana."</p>
<p>Out of pure habit from her Southern hospitality, she gave a smile and a small wave back, "Hey there…Count Dracula."</p>
<p>His head tilted slightly as he regarded her curiously, "So you know who I am?"</p>
<p>"Yeah," She nodded, "And what you are."</p>
<p>"Oh?" There was a pause. "Well good, that sorts out all that awkwardness then."</p>
<p>He pushed himself off the car and she was momentarily distracted as the full vehicle came into view, "Are you serious - a <i>Rolls Royce?</i> That's what you drive?"</p>
<p>His eyebrows rose almost innocently. "What? Did you expect a hearse?"</p>
<p>She shrugged. It wasn't something that really crossed her mind but it didn't sound unreasonable.</p>
<p>"I'm undead, not unfashionable." He winked, "Besides, I found a killer deal."</p>
<p>Dracula opened the passenger door and looked at her expectantly, "Care for a lift home?"</p>
<p>"Are you going to kill me?" Roxana blurted out, as she tugged her jacket closer in an attempt to fight the chill. "Just like you killed Zoe and Agatha?"</p>
<p>Something flashed in his dark eyes but she couldn't tell what it was before it disappeared and his gaze hardened, "I see that the foundation got to you."</p>
<p>"They <i>told</i> me about you." She corrected him.</p>
<p>"Clearly," His jaw ticked, "However, you have me at a disadvantage, as I've no idea who exactly you are and that doesn't seem fair, now does it?"</p>
<p>She stared at him in disbelief, "A disadvantage? You're a <i>vampire</i>."</p>
<p>Dracula studied her face for a moment and then heaved a sigh, "It is not my <i>current</i> inclination to kill you, Roxana, but I cannot promise as much for the future. Though it does seem to be a reoccurring trend with you Van Helsings."</p>
<p>Roxana weighed her limited options. If she could even truly fool herself into believing she had any. On the one hand, Dracula had not harmed her yet when he had plenty of opportunities given that they were very alone on the street, at a later hour, and on a Sunday night. Everyone in the city was either at home or the bar; either way they were staying inside and away from the cold. Not a witness to be found. On the other hand, her own car was currently in the shop and she imagined her chance of something bad happening was just as likely if she chose to walk or take an Uber.</p>
<p>"Sure, I'll take a ride." She slid past him and into the seat, all the while trying to ignore his cheeky little grin. He closed the door gently and then went around to get in the driver's side, turning on the vehicle and looking at her expectantly. "Just head towards the river and then take a right on Tchoup."</p>
<p>Soft jazz was the only sound heard for a moment as he pulled away from her restaurant and followed her directions. She watched from the corner of her eye how he tapped his nails against the steering wheel, the claws creating a dull thud every time they connected with the leather.</p>
<p>She decided to be the one to break the silence and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly so she could gather herself before speaking. "They said you might come looking for me and they showed me photos and videos. That's how I recognized you."</p>
<p>"You look just like them." He glanced over, his eyes meeting hers briefly before focusing back on the road. "But I honestly had no idea you even existed. Tonight was merely a pleasant surprise, nothing more."</p>
<p>Not very convinced, Roxana crossed her arms and looked out the window at the passing houses, "So this is just a funny coincidence?"</p>
<p>"Oh I don't believe in those," He breathed a laugh, "After five hundred years, I think I know a pattern when I see it."</p>
<p>"If you continued that pattern, my death would be inevitable."</p>
<p>"You're mortal." He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Your death is inevitable whether I have anything to do with it or not."</p>
<p>"I saw the photo of Zoe's corpse. Do you expect me to believe you're not going to do the same thing to me?"</p>
<p>Dracula's hand tightened on the wheel. "That was a mercy."</p>
<p>"I'm sorry?" She turned towards him with an affronted look on her face, "Please tell me how that is supposed to be comforting."</p>
<p>He stopped at a light and met her gaze, "She was <i>already</i> on the verge of dying. Cancer. I simply assisted the parting guest."</p>
<p>As he spoke, his eyes looked beyond Roxana for a moment as if he was viewing the memory, and then the light turned green. She quietly told him the make the next turn.</p>
<p>"Why the name change? von Hels isn't very different than Van Helsing." He switched the subject, not wanting to completely divulge what had actually happened in London. <i>One mustn't show their cards all at once.</i></p>
<p>"Theatrics, I suppose. Plus, my family has a bit of a reputation around here and I'd rather that be a separate entity than my restaurant." She said, "I'm probably the only Van Helsing left in the city and after some years passed, people don't make the connection anymore."</p>
<p>"Except me."</p>
<p>"Yeah, well, you have a bit of an advantage."</p>
<p>He couldn't help himself, "Some would say I have a <i>bite</i> of an advantage."</p>
<p>Roxana laughed and he decided he liked the sound; he couldn't remember ever hearing Zoe or Agatha laugh. The former was nothing but science and skepticism, the latter was smugly studious; this one, however, was calm and curious and almost cheerful - no matter how much her heartbeat told him otherwise, he had to admit her poker face was spectacular.</p>
<p>"It's up here on the left."</p>
<p>He pulled the car over in front of the row of mismatched colored shotgun houses. An equally disheveled looking calico cat was perched on the stoop, its eyes reflected back brightly and its tail flicked as the vehicle slowed to a stop.</p>
<p>"If you're not here to kill me, then what is it you want?" She asked seriously, looking over to the vampire as he put the car in park and turned towards her once more.</p>
<p>"The usual; some company and something to eat."</p>
<p>She couldn't stop another chuckle, "Don't we all?"</p>
<p>Dracula watched her for a moment before leaning closer, enjoying the way her eyes widened as he backed her into the corner of her seat and the door. "I want to find out everything there is to know about you, <i>Roxana Van Helsing</i>."</p>
<p>She was paralyzed as his hand came up around her neck, holding her gently and firmly still. His thumb traced her pulse point and she watched with rapt attention as his tongue slowly wetted his lips. Eyes so dark that even the glow of the street lamps disappeared into their depths.</p>
<p>"There is a reason we crossed paths and we're going to find out why," She went to speak but his long finger halted her lips before the words could form, "After all, we will be working together for this upcoming soirée. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, hm?"</p>
<p>Roxana's brows rose skeptically but she said nothing. She had nearly forgotten about that whole fiasco. </p>
<p>A quick flash of gold caught Dracula's eye and his attention was diverted to the small cross hanging around her neck. She watched as his jaw clenched and his head moved back minutely, but instead of being deterred, like the foundation said he would, Dracula merely let go of her neck and tapped the tiny piece of metal with his claw.</p>
<p>"Oh, you haven't heard those don't work anymore? Sorry to disappoint." He shrugged innocently and then leaned back. Despite his words, she could tell he clearly still held some distaste for the holy symbol.</p>
<p>"I'll agree to help you, with both the dinner and whatever this is, on one condition."</p>
<p>He smirked, "And what would that be?"</p>
<p>"You're not allowed to have my blood." His face dropped and he glowered as she continued, "I know you could just take it whether I'd like it or not, but if you actually want my cooperation, it is off-limits."</p>
<p>Dracula studied her for a minute before smiling again, "Of course. I've been on a consent-first diet as of late anyway. Helps sort through the drunks as well. Let me tell you, I've had some nasty hangovers from these people. I swear, this city runs on liquor."</p>
<p>Shaking her head, she gave another laugh and opened the car door. As she stepped out, she leaned back to look at him once more, "This has all been really weird, but I guess have a good night?"</p>
<p>"I shall need your telephone number." He held out his mobile and watched her put in her digits before handing it back. He quickly typed out a message, she heard her phone go off in her purse, and he grinned toothily. "See you around, <i>Miss von Hels</i>."</p>
<p>She closed the door, walked up to her stoop, and went straight for the lock without looking back. The cat meowed loudly as she passed by. "Come on, Fifolet."</p>
<p>It stretched up in an arch and set its sights back on the idling car, seemingly narrowing its eyes toward the vampire. With a sassy swish of the tail, it turned and followed her into the house.</p>
<p>Dracula watched intently until the door finally closed shut, he could see the lights flick on through the windows but nothing more past all the curtains. He chuckled to himself as he put the vehicle into gear again. <i>What a silly thing to demand…of course he was going to get her blood. Time was eternal, he could be patient, and once he got her…he was going to enjoy every last drop.</i></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Them Gators</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The moon had an eerie glow as it casted its light through the drapery of hanging moss and onto the murky waters of the swamp below. It was a heavily hot and humid evening, sweat dripped steadily down her back as Roxana watched the scene before her with disinterest. </p><p>Despite the shine of the moon, it was still difficult to see, but what she heard was unmistakable. Garbled shouts along with the occasional high-pitched shriek countered the spine-chilling sounds of crunching bones and tearing flesh. They didn’t last long. Once the screams subsided, the only noises that remained were the occasional splash of water and something akin to a branch snapping every so often. </p><p>She could almost hear a distant yet familiar voice rattle off in her head. <i>“Them gators’ll eat up anything you throw em. Meat, muscle, and bones! You name it!”</i></p><p>Suddenly she felt a change in the atmosphere and looked over to see the dark figure of a certain vampire standing on the other side of the dock. Dull thuds from his footsteps echoed around them as he slowly made his way over to stand by her side. For a moment they watched in silence as the alligators had a go at the victims in the bayou.</p><p>“You’re not supposed to be here.” She murmured and looked over. He tilted his head down at the blood-filled waters with a small snarl and then set his eyes on her; they were filling with inky black tendrils and glowing the darkest red. In an instant, he was gripping her tightly, his talons digging into the back of her neck, and bending her head to a harsh angle that gave him full access to her jugular. </p><p>Dracula flashed her a deadly smile, “On the contrary, my dear, <i>I can do anything I want.</i>”</p><p>His descent was swift; she felt the sharp fangs sink into her throat and let her eyes roll back. Sagging into his hold, she felt the darkness open its arms to drink her in. </p><p>Roxana woke with a gasp and shot straight up in her bed. </p><p>Looking around frantically, she struggled to pinpoint her surroundings and then Fifolet meowed from across the room, jarring her back to reality. She was home and in her room. Safe. </p><p>Her next course of action was feeling up and down her neck to make sure the dream was truly just a figment of her imagination. It remained wound-free. She exhaled loudly and collapsed back against her sheets.</p><p>The light of the morning sun cut across her room like a lance. Dim shadows danced along the ceiling as her fan spun on and on. It creaked slightly as it bounced back and forth, barely hanging onto its hinges, but all Roxana could hear was the thumping of her own heart. </p><p>Just a dream. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. The sounds of the world awake and hustling outside her window gave her just enough motivation to swing her legs over the edge of the bed. The persistence and volume of the cat’s cries grew in earnest as it followed Roxana to the kitchen, positively demanding to be fed and let back outside. When she opened the door, it happily darted underneath the neighbor's house and wouldn’t be seen again until the evening.</p><p>There was a slight chill, but the skies were clear and the sun would soon warm up the city enough to make it a pleasant day. She walked back to her room to grab her phone and check the time, it was a still bit early but she didn’t mind. It was then noticed a text notification. The number was unknown but the text below read, in all caps; UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN accompanied by a vampire emoji. </p><p>Roxana blinked and put the phone back down. Apparently not all the events of the previous night were a dream. </p><p>With another long sigh, she went to the kitchen and started her morning routine. Coffee first, then shower, and then off to run errands. </p><p>As she closed and locked up her front door, Roxana took a deep breath of fresh air and smiled. All thoughts of the fanged menace were pushed far from her mind and would be addressed another day. She threw on her sunglasses and strode off towards the streetcar. </p><p>——</p><p>Dracula loved sunrises. After missing thousands of them, he tried to make a daily effort to watch. He enjoyed spending time memorizing the way the sun would paint the sky with fire before melting down into a sea of pastel purples, pinks, and oranges until the bold blues wiped the other colors and clouds from view. It was especially invigorating after a nice meal. </p><p>He dropped the still-warm body to the ground and smacked his lips, bringing his hand up to wipe a smidge of blood from the corner of his mouth. A finely aged thirty-something man who was five years sober and treated his body like a temple. Slightly tangy, but not as bad as Dracula had expected. Almost like a healthy smoothie.</p><p>As they say, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.</p><p>The blood pooled a little around the body, sinking into the wooden floorboards, and the apartment began to creak and moan. Dracula rolled his eyes, “Yes, <i>another one</i>, get over it. You lot should have enough souls to get a real party going in here, so cheer up, hm?” </p><p>A window shudder snapped close to his left and a couple of doors slammed rather loudly down the hall. He could hear chains faintly rattling in the far bedroom but paid no mind.</p><p>“As always, you’ll find no pity from me.” He addressed the room and the house gave one last protest in the form of a teacup flying by his head, shattering against the wall. Dracula raised a brow but remained unmoved. “Bloody haunted houses.”</p><p>He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his servant’s number while walking to the other side of the apartment. Renfield answered on the first ring, “Good morning, my lord.”</p><p>“I need you to dispose of a body.”</p><p>“Oh, al-already?”</p><p>Dracula glanced back at the face-down corpse sprawled out by the couch. </p><p>“Why, have something more important to do?” He turned back to the window that peered out over Jackson Square. Watching all the artists begin to set up their carts and tables and tricks and instruments and anything they could to make some sort of salvageable living. “I will say, this one was a tad bit messy. He was a fighter.”</p><p>“I think he taught jiu-jitsu by the lakefront, sir.”</p><p>“Ah, that’s it. Was just on the tip of my tongue.” Dracula liked the rush of tapping the veins of a martial artist. It tasted of perseverance, power, and control; maybe a slight hint of unadulterated anger towards someone...Dracula licked his lips in thought, oh there it is, the man was mad about his ex. Well that’s disappointingly anti-climactic, he mused.</p><p>The count’s attention was drawn to a familiar figure now weaving through the maze of workshops below. Roxana Van Helsing. He watched as she made her rounds through the throngs of artists and palm readers and tarot card fortune-tellers; all the while smiling so brightly and greeting various people as she made her way towards the river. It seemed that she knew nearly every regular who set up shop in the square. She hugged some of the tarot card and palm readers, waved at the painters as they hung their work on the wrought iron fence, and she even blew a kiss to a man painted black and gold and stood like a statue, but didn’t miss a beat as he caught the flying smooch and sent her a wink in return.</p><p>“How interesting...” He murmured, not able to take his eyes off of the woman floating around cheerfully below. After all the pleasantries, she crossed the street and set off towards the French Market. </p><p>“My lord?”</p><p>He momentarily forgot he was still on the phone. “Nothing. Get over here and take care of this. The flies are starting to gather.”</p><p>“But the council - “</p><p>“Toss the body in the river or burn it, I don’t care.” Dracula snapped; the council, for lack of a better term, and their pesky rules were starting to grate on his nerves. “Just make sure to stake the poor bastard. The last thing I need right now is Keres pestering me about some monster waking up in the Bahamas or wherever.”</p><p>With a not-so-discreet sigh, Renfield acquiesced, “Of course, sir.”</p><p>“Be quick about it.” Dracula clicked the end call button and shoved his phone in his pant pocket. Turning on his heel, the count swept out of the apartment and headed the same direction he saw her walking. </p><p>It didn’t take long for Dracula to find Roxana purchasing a coffee from one of the stands in the market. He slid into the shadows easily and watched from a distance while she meandered around, chatting with people here and there, looking over all the paintings, sculptures, jewelry, and clothing that were handmade by locals. Her smile was a beam of light that never seemed to fade. It was always there, he noticed curiously, from a large grin to a little smirk, her lips were quirked at all times. Was it genuine? He couldn’t fathom the notion of someone being that happy. Especially mortals. They always complained about something. </p><p>Roxana wound herself around the last few stands, exited to the street, and made her way down towards Esplanade. Still maintaining discretion, he followed her along the broken sidewalks all the way into the Marigny, an adorably idiosyncratic suburb just to the east of the quarter. </p><p>There was a small church nestled in between some houses with large white picnic tables and canopy pop-ups set up out front. Each table was covered with large catering trays and enormous cooking pots, about six or seven people stood behind it putting on gloves and aprons, and there was a line that went on around the block. Leaning back against a tree, Dracula tilted his head as he observed her embrace what looked to be the woman in charge and then put on the proffered apron and gloves. Roxana took over one of the stations and started to dish out plates of red beans and rice. </p><p>One by one, she asked them how their day was and would give them a bowl, wishing them well. Everyone was friendly to each other; those in need were visibly grateful and those supplying were simply content to help in any way they could. </p><p>A strange sight for the old vampire, it had been a good long while since he had seen such compassion. </p><p>Dracula wasn’t sure how long he watched Roxana, but once the crowd started to dwindle down to the last few homeless folk in search of a warm meal, the sun had already begun its descent into the afternoon. </p><p>The volunteers packed up the tables and dishes and trash into a few truck beds before giving out another round of hugs and bidding one another farewell. Roxana waited for the last truck to leave until she put on her light jacket and turned to make her own departure. He figured that was about as good a moment as any to make an appearance and was instantly by her side. </p><p>“Fancy seeing you here - “ Dracula began but before he could finish she let out a shriek and jumped nearly a foot in the air. Instinctively, he held out a hand to make sure she didn’t tumble over, but to his surprise, Roxana turned and delivered a solid punch to his chest. Not that it hurt by any means, but the shock of the assault made him take a step back and slacken his jaw in offense. </p><p>“Jesus fucking Christ, you can’t do that!” She gripped her chest, frantically trying to control her now racing heart. “Where the hell did you even come from?”</p><p>She glared up at him and the ferocity of it made him laugh so she sent another punch to his arm, which made him laugh even harder. He took another step back, dodging more of her blows, and raised his hands in defense. “It was totally worth it, you should’ve seen your face.”</p><p>Roxana groaned and ceased fire, “Have you been following me all day?”</p><p>The faux-innocence that Dracula's face displayed spoke volumes. </p><p>She continued down the sidewalk back towards the quarter, but after a few steps she realized he hadn’t moved. So she turned back with a hand on her hip, “Well? Don’t be shy now, if you’re going to be my shadow then might as well get over here.”</p><p>His long legs were quick to shorten the distance between them and matched her pace as they began to walk side by side. </p><p>They were quiet for a few blocks, the sounds of cars cruising by, birds chirping around, and dogs barking off in the distance easily filled the void. Dracula noticed she kept stealing glances his way, subtly - he’d give her that - but nonetheless it made him smirk. “I can see there is something you’re just dying to say.”</p><p>Roxana hopped over a large crack in the sidewalk before looking back up at him, “How are you here? I mean, in the sunlight, isn’t that supposed to...you know?”</p><p>She drew the side of a thumb across her throat mimicking certain death and he grinned. </p><p>“Yes, well, it turns out that was just a funny little myth too.” Dracula shrugged casually. She noticed his dark sunglasses, loosely coiffed hair, and easy little smile and decided that he looked entirely too content in the daytime. It was a strange sight to behold a vampire sauntering around under the bright sun. The horror!</p><p>“Wait a second.” Roxana stopped in her tracks causing him to slow as well and pivot back in question. Her brow furrowed and he could practically see the wheels spinning in her head. “You mean this is a recent discovery?”</p><p>Dracula narrowed his gaze suspiciously, not knowing where she was going with this, “In comparison to how long I was unaware? Yes.”</p><p>“Did you ever check?”</p><p>“Check what?”</p><p>“You know, to see if it would actually burn you.” A large cicada buzzed and crackled as it flew by. “Like maybe sticking a pinkie finger out in the light? Test the waters?”</p><p>The nerve in his jaw ticked as Dracula clenched his teeth and stared at her for a moment, unreadable behind the Ray Bans he wore. </p><p>“No, huh?” Roxana burst out laughing, “So you spent, what, four hundred years without any sort of proof that you would become a batty barbecue?”</p><p>“You’re enjoying this.” His arms were crossed over his chest now and he boasted a very unimpressed glare. </p><p>“You just shaved off ten years of my life with that stunt back there, payback is justified.”</p><p>“I could take off quite a few more years than that, my dear.” He said while stepping closer, but his bark lacked its normal bite. </p><p>She patted his arm, “Oh lighten up, cher, I’m just messing around.”</p><p>Despite the irritation that she brought out of him, Dracula found that he didn’t mind their banter, it was refreshing to be around someone who challenged him again. He still didn’t care for what she pointed out; he felt ridiculous enough about the whole ordeal and needn’t a reminder of his foolish mistakes. </p><p>“Anyways,” They continued walking, “While I have you, I’d like to know more about this whole soirée coming up, what exactly is that all about?”</p><p>“Well, I’m afraid I don’t know too terribly much, this is sort of my initiation into the council.” He said with slight disgust towards the idea. As if the mere thought of him having to go through a trial just to be part of something was beyond absurd. “Before you ask - because I <i>know</i> you will - the council is the organization that deals with maintaining the city’s supernatural and mortal order.”</p><p>“There must be a lot of supernatural folk for a council to have been formed.”</p><p>“Oh you have no idea!” He laughed as her eyebrows shot up. “A lot more than even I was aware of before moving here, that’s for sure.”</p><p>“All vampires?’</p><p>“No, not all, but quite a few of us.”</p><p>“Are there werewolves?”</p><p>“Why, do you prefer dogs? I thought you were one of those crazy cat ladies.” He smirked as she pushed his arm. “No, no wolves down here, it’s far too hot for those beasts. I have heard of a swamp creature, but have not seen one yet myself. Sounds exciting though.”</p><p>“Oh, really?” Roxana's mouth turned into a frown as she looked down in concern, almost muttering to herself. “I should probably warn Memaw. Oh who am I kidding, she has her <i>voodoo</i> for protection, she won’t listen to me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry - your <i>what?</i>” </p><p>They came to a stop at a traffic light and waited to cross the street. Roxana forgot he was there for a moment and her head shot up, giggling a little at his confusion, “‘Memaw’? Means ‘grandmother’. It doesn’t matter. Hey, I’m starving, want to grab some food with me? There’s a great spot just around the corner.”</p><p>At the mention of eating, Dracula looked down at her neck and licked his lips, damn did it look appetizing. It was a good thing he was wearing sunglasses and she couldn’t see the hunger that darkened his eyes. “Roxana, my dear, I would be delighted.”</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Rosemary Grits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cafe Rose Nicaud had a moderate crowd for the afternoon rush. This allowed Dracula and Roxana to squeeze into a small booth in the far corner without having to wait. It was a cozy spot; the dark walls were lined with brightly painted caricatures of revered local musicians and the glass in the windows was covered with a colored film that reflected purple, green, and gold across the tables. Kermit Ruffin's trumpet cooed and floated casually out from the speakers in the ceiling.</p><p>A waitress shuffled over to drop off some menus and waters, when she smiled her cheeks were dotted and rosy and half her teeth were missing. Roxana thanked the woman and took a swig from the ice-cold glass. The midday sun heated the city quite nicely, making her light jacket feel a little too warm, so she shrugged it off and folded it up next to her. Dracula, on the other hand, and despite his all-black three-piece-suit, looked as cool as a cucumber as he lazily put his sunglasses into his breast pocket and picked up the menu.</p><p>The image struck her as strangely normal, <em>too normal</em>, to see Dracula sitting across from her at a small cafe tapping his claws against the tabletop and glancing over the menu with an almost bored look. Roxana used the opportunity to properly inspect him in the daylight. She couldn't deny that the man was attractive. His thick black mane was only slightly mussed from the walk, but otherwise impeccably maintained. He had such a distinguished facial structure that she couldn't help but to be in slight awe; from the serious, Slavic brow to the prominently defined cheekbones; he was every bit a good-looking villainous trope. She took particular notice of his full lips; what a soft and pillowy barrier between his vicious teeth and any poor soul that got too close.</p><p>By the way his brows knitted together as he read the menu, she gathered he was unfamiliar with the world of modern cuisine. It made it her wonder if he knew anything about human food at all.</p><p>"Do you even eat food?" Roxana asked curiously.</p><p>Dracula shook his head, "No, but I do find it intriguing how much stock you all put into food here. It's as if you really care about what you consume. I like that."</p><p>"Because food is <em>lives</em>. A single plate can tell the stories of the past or create visions for the future; it can soothe your soul, shed your tears, and inspire your senses. It allows us to survive but can just as well be a cause of death." She took another sip of water before continuing. "I believe that flavor is the essence of life and it is blasphemy to claim otherwise."</p><p>He stared at her for a moment with what almost looked like fondness. "I completely agree."</p><p>"It's a shame though."</p><p>"What's that?"</p><p>"Well, that you missed out on such a wonderful dish last night," Roxana's lips curved as he cocked his head, "I had really put in the effort and for that chateaubriand to be wasted on you is just <em>tragic</em>."</p><p>"To be perfectly honest, I had been thinking about a <em>different</em> kind of meal you could've offered." Dracula grinned, leaning closer across the table, "You know, it's bad for business, not providing for your client's needs and wants. That is something we shall have to work on."</p><p>She swallowed thickly, he was a bit too close and she could see nothing but the black hole of his gaze. His eyes were truly mesmerizing and she was afraid of getting lost inside that intimidating stare. Luckily for her, at that moment the waitress came back to take the order, Roxana was grateful for the distraction and spoke up first, "I'll take the rose benedict with some gator sausage and a house bloody, please cher."</p><p>"Not a problem, babe, and what about you, handsome?"</p><p>"I'm just here for the lady." He smiled boyishly. "But I wouldn't mind trying a tall glass of yourself."</p><p>She gave a shriek of laughter and pointed a crooked finger at him before collecting the menus back up, "Oh you're nothing but trouble. Alright, baby, that'll be right up, just holla if you need anything." She walked back towards the kitchen shaking her head. "Ohh, he's bad!"</p><p>"If she only knew," Roxana muttered.</p><p>He turned to smile at her, "That word you said, 'cher', what does that mean? You called me it earlier as well."</p><p>His question was innocent but it turned her cheeks a cherry red that Dracula found very enjoyable.</p><p>"Oh it's just a, um, a term of endearment." She spoke quickly as if the more words she managed to squeeze in would save her from embarrassment. "But don't think on it, honestly, it's just habit. Memaw used to say it, along with her cribbage friends, and my old cooking instructor…It comes from 'cherie', the french word for 'dearest' or whatever."</p><p>She didn't appreciate how pleased he looked and he most definitely was. It was the little things, he mused silently, that made her squirm and fluster. Another piece to the puzzle he was starting to put together.</p><p>"You seem to be warming up to me quite quickly."</p><p>"Ever heard of 'Southern Hospitality'? Calling people babe or cher or honey is habitual because we have a friendly culture, nothing more, so don't get your hopes up, <em>sweetie</em>."</p><p>"I understand the social pleasantries, but that is beside the point." Dracula looked pointedly at their proximity in the booth. He was right, and she knew it, because who else in their right mind would willingly sit down and have brunch with an undead vampire warlord from the fourteenth century? Maybe she was crazy.</p><p>"Look, I don't know how to…<em>be</em> about everything. Seeing as this situation is a little bit out of my realm, I'm just going to be cautious and courteous lest I become a snack."</p><p>"I <em>told</em> you," The vampire huffed, "I'm not going to kill you yet. And besides, I wouldn't have you as a <em>snack</em>, no, my dear, you would be a full-on, fine-dining, four-course meal and I intend to make you last."</p><p>Her face deadpanned.</p><p>"Here you go, baby." The waitress chose the most opportune moment to arrive with the bloody mary. A godsend, truly. "I gave you an extra piece of bacon, sugar, in case y'all wanted to share."</p><p>With a not-very-subtle wink towards Dracula, she hobbled away again. Roxana rolled her eyes and immediately started gulping down half the beverage before munching the first sweetened slice of pig. "She's really laying it on thick, huh?"</p><p>"I can't help it that I'm irresistible."</p><p>"Oh I'm not so sure of that," She popped a pepper into her mouth. "I've been in your company for less than twenty-four hours and I can already tell you are insufferable."</p><p>"Roxana!" Dracula mocked gasped and placed his hand over his non-beating heart, garnering some attention from the nearby patrons, "You wound me."</p><p>"You'll survive, I'm sure." She polished off the rest of the drink and smiled widely at the noisy tourists. They immediately looked back down at their plates; the key was to always kill them with kindness. "Anyway, if you're finished with being a drama queen, please tell me more about this council and dinner and all that. We've been getting slightly off track."</p><p>The Count sighed and raked a hand through his hair, completely oblivious to the exchange, "Basically there is a peace treaty being put into place because <em>apparently</em> things are getting out of hand for the city. The mortals want accountability and the council is trying to solidify an agreement. And as far the dinner goes, I imagine there are going to be a few more people from Mr. Kendell's committee as well as the heads of Keres' council. We will all wine and dine, figuratively for the supernaturals, of course, we'll sign some papers and all the political nonsense, all while you graciously host us."</p><p>"And then it'll be over? I won't have to deal with any of this after that?"</p><p>"Are you already tiring of my company?" Dracula's brow crinkled upwards and made him akin to a large puppy dog, but she was not fooled. Without letting her answer, he heaved a sigh and continued. "Well, I'd imagine that afterward, at a later date, there will be a ball. Seeing as it should be around the time Mardi Gras starts to pick up, I believe it will be a grand affair. You will be invited, no doubt, Keres is nothing if not socially polite."</p><p>"Yeah, sure, that sounds safe." She was being sarcastic, but her interest piqued considerably. A gala for a supernatural and mortal peace treaty <em>during</em> Mardi Gras? Roxana would be lying if she said that wasn't the coolest thing she had ever heard of. Call it some sort of morbid fascination that seemed to be interred in her bones because she always did have an affinity towards dark and strange things.</p><p>"I'll admit, Keres can be a bit uptight and a tad pretentious, but let me tell you, that woman really knows how to throw a party!"</p><p>"What's the deal with you two anyway, y'all an item or something?"</p><p>"Why, are you jealous?" He smirked as she went to protest but cut her off with a lazy wave of his hand, "No, no, no, she is definitely <em>not</em> one of my brides."</p><p>That stopped Roxana in her tracks and she stared at him incredulously, "I'm sorry, did you say brides? Plural?"</p><p>"Yes." Dracula's brows rose innocently. "I never have more than three at a time."</p><p>"What the fu-?" She was cut off by a steaming plate placed in front of her face. The smell wafted up to her nose and she deeply inhaled the tantalizing scent, momentarily distracted from the beast across from her.</p><p>"Anything else, hun?" Where the waitress stood, Roxana could only see an angel sent down from the heavens.</p><p>"Another bloody and make it a double, please."</p><p>The woman nodded knowingly and was off again.</p><p>Roxana took a moment to stare at the beautiful dish and appreciate its display. The rose benedict was one of her favorite brunch items; the succulently poached egg perched on top of a fluffy and flaky biscuit baked to perfection, layered with fresh arugula, sliced tomatoes and avocados, a juicy alligator sausage link, and the homemade hollandaise sauce that was <em>magnificent</em>. It was all placed neatly over a bed of the cafe's famous rosemary grits.</p><p>Simply divine.</p><p>Dracula watched with intent as Roxana delicately used her knife to break open one of the eggs and the yolk oozed out over the side of the dish. With precise hands, she cut a piece that contained a little bit of everything and brought the fork to her mouth. As she bit down and closed her eyes, she let out a little moan that should not have affected him the way it did. He began to salivate as his eyes focused on how her tongue dipped out to lick the little bit left on the corner of her lip and they slowly drew downward towards her neck, where he could hear her heartbeat thump solidly beneath her flesh.</p><p>The cheery waitress came back with Roxana's drink; she thanked the older woman and took a large swig, her eyes closed briefly in happiness at how strongly poured the beverage was. Thank the gods for vodka, she thought gratefully and then brought her focus back to Dracula. "So are you saying you have three brides right now? That sounds exhausting. Honestly how could you have time to follow me around all day?"</p><p>"No, no, I'm currently in the market." He leaned close and spoke conspiratorially, "It's really not all that difficult, you see, they're fairly easy to control once put in their boxes."</p><p>"You're horrible."</p><p>"I'm joking," Dracula reclined back in his seat and laughed, "Haven't done that in a few hundred years. No, nowadays it's a bit more complex, isn't it?"</p><p>"Relationships?"</p><p>"If you want to call them that, sure." He said, watching her for a moment as she cut into the second egg with the same precision as the first. "I've had some difficulties acquiring the right bride."</p><p>"Maybe if you practiced a little respect and some monogamy, you might have more success." Roxana took a sip of water and then made a facial shrug, "Or if they're into polygamy, then that's fine. It's not my bag but to each their own. Though I will say, the whole box thing is really fucked up and you've definitely got to <em>cut that shit out</em>."</p><p>He found her candor endearing. "It is an attempt I'm making."</p><p>"Is that why you wasted the day stalking me?"</p><p>"I have an <em>eternity</em>. One day is insignificant and therefore cannot be wasted." As he spoke, one of his large hands waved about and emphasized his speech. "Besides I wasn't stalking, you passed by my window near the square and I had nothing better to do."</p><p>"You followed me all the way from there?!" The Count just shrugged and folded his hands together in his lap. She rolled her eyes, "You need to find yourself a hobby."</p><p>Roxana ate the last bite of her meal before polishing off the rest of her drink and set the empty glass down with a satisfied sigh. Her stomach was full and her head was beginning to enter the realm of that familiar warmth that only accompanied good liquor.</p><p>Again with impeccable service, the waitress swung by again to pick up the dirty dishes and asked if anything else was needed. Roxana ordered another double bloody to-go and the check. She then excused herself to go to the bathroom and Dracula sat back to observe his surroundings. Idle chatter and clinking utensils on plates filled filling the cafe, but the vampire could hear nothing more than a symphony of heartbeats all thumping in a wild orchestrated sonata. He was getting very hungry.</p><p>The Count took a deep breath and reminded himself to be patient. All good things come with time. His companion returned at the same time as the waitress and when Roxana grabbed the check, she noticed that Dracula had latched his claws onto the other side. "I'll take care of that."</p><p>"Oh no, you won't!"</p><p>He smirked as her eyes narrowed, "Oh yes, I will."</p><p>"You didn't even eat."</p><p>"And?"</p><p>"I pay my own way."</p><p>"I insist."</p><p>They both had leaned closer and closer, not willing to break eye-contact nor their vice grips on the bill. Dracula was incredibly amused. Roxana was not. The waitress's head bounced back and forth along with their verbal tennis match.</p><p>"I will make a scene." She all but growled, eyes narrowing.</p><p>"Please," He matched her tone, "I would love to see that."</p><p>A pause.</p><p>"Damn girl, just take the free meal!" The waitress decided to take the opportunity to cut in, "Give him a little lagniappe later, ya heard me? If you don't, well, <em>sign me up, </em>baby<em>.</em>"</p><p>Needless to say, Roxana was <em>not</em> happy when she walked out of the cafe and stormed down the street. Dracula followed, looking as smug as ever with his hands in his pockets and a little grin on his face.</p><p>After a few blocks and a few more swigs from her cup, she finally let go of her pride and slowed to walk alongside him once more. The sun had begun to set, sending its red and orange hues across the city to cut in between streets and through windows. She loved this time of day. The refraction of the sun created a heady glow that felt like a soothing hug to one's soul.</p><p>"Where are we off to next?" Dracula looked down at her, noticing her shoulders weren't as rigid as they were when they left the restaurant.</p><p>"A nice lady in the bathroom told me about some little show down by the river, thought that sounded lovely."</p><p>He made a face, "Modern toilet etiquette is baffling."</p><p>"We were just washing our hands," Roxana laughed at the count's confused expression. "Though you're not wrong. A lot more goes on in bathrooms than just <em>'using the loo.'</em>"</p><p>She mimicked his acquired accent and he was thrilled to see her back to her cheerful self. Until her eyes lit up with a curiosity that he was beginning to recognize and he could already tell where her mind was heading.</p><p>"Wait, do you -?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"But I didn't-"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Could you let me-?"</p><p>"No." He said, chuckling as she huffed in frustration. "I know what you're going to ask and the answer is no. I have no use for a toilet. Good thing too, apparently, because according to you, there are plenty of strange things that happen in those receptacles that I have no wish of engaging in."</p><p>"Eh, it's mostly people doing drugs. You're not missing much." They turned the corner, she brushed away some hair that blew in her face and took another sip. "Unless you're into drugs?"</p><p>Dracula grimaced, "Not particularly. It depends on the drug."</p><p>"How about alcohol?" She looked up at him and he shook his head no. "So why did you choose New Orleans? You do realize this is a party city, right?"</p><p>"Because I see that there is more to this city than what meets the eye." He spread his hands out wide, "Look around! New Orleans is a delicious cocktail of artists and scholars, fighters and doctors, saints and sinners - it is a plentiful orchard of every imaginable fruit and I would be remiss <em>not</em> to pluck the ripened morsels. The culture here promotes hedonism and I am simply embracing it."</p><p>He watched as she paused and looked thoughtfully a bush of jasmine flowers. There were hundreds of them lining the block and wafting around their fragrant aroma. She bent down to pluck a group of three and then turned towards him, walking up close, and tucking them gently in his breast pocket.</p><p>"What's this for?"</p><p>"Something sweet-smelling," She continued forward, "You're starting to stink up the neighborhood with your evil."</p><p>"It was a compliment of the highest form - I've actually become quite fond of this city!"</p><p>"Yeah? So stop eating its people!" Roxana called over her shoulder. Dracula laughed in disbelief; she definitely would be an interesting flavor and he was very eager to try.</p><p>Catching up to her quickly, they made their way across the quarter and over to the river. By the time they arrived, the night sky had crept in, chasing away the rest of daylight. A small crowd had gathered over by the steps along the riverbank and in the center were a couple of musicians with their small amplifiers; the band was jamming and the crowd was dancing away. The music was a bit too uptempo for Roxana's taste but she could appreciate that everyone was having a good time.</p><p>"Is this your style of music?" He asked as they sat down next to each other on a bench overlooking the impromptu show. She noticed how close he sat and how he positioned his body angled towards her with his arm draped behind her. Knowing he was going towards being incredibly invasive and unnerving, she was not about to admit defeat and refused to scoot back.</p><p>"No, I'm more of a blues or tragic rock 'n roll kind of gal. The sadder the better, I say."</p><p>"But you seem so…happy."</p><p>"Yeah, well, you seem like a gentleman, but we both know what you're really after here." She gave him a pointed look. "All of us wear masks, Mr. Balaur."</p><p>"Fair enough."</p><p>They sat for a while and watched the impromptu set until the sky grew darker and the city lights flickered awake. The heat of the sun disappeared along with it and brought in the chilly air once more. A swift reminder to Roxana that she only brought a thin coat. She chugged down the remainder of her drink, in hopes of creating some sort of liquor blanket, and pulled her jacket closer.</p><p>"As surprisingly nice this evening turned out to be, I need to get home. So I'm going to head out." She stood up and turned towards him.</p><p>"Would you like a ride?"</p><p>"No!" She said a little too loudly and then cleared her throat, blushing. "I mean, no that's fine, I'm just going take the streetcar."</p><p>"Nonsense, I can drive you, my car is close by."</p><p>"Seriously, I'm fine. Thank you, though."</p><p>"I'll accompany you to the streetcar then - and I won't take no for answer."</p><p>Roxana knew better than to even try and just spun on her heel, walking away and knowing that he would shortly keep up. They weaved back through the maze of the quarter towards the hub on Canal Street and maintained their amiable silence. Dracula kept a few steps distance from her and easily clung to the shadows. She thought it was strange, but made no comment. Must be his nature.</p><p>A few blocks from the bright and bustling main street, they were the only people walking around as they passed by a dimly lit parking garage. Where an attendant usually sat was only an empty booth and a single flickering light.</p><p>There was a flash of steel and suddenly a man appeared out from around the other side of the booth. He was wielding a knife. The guy pointed it at Roxana, not seeing Dracula in the darkness, and he gave her a grin that sent chills down her spine.</p><p>"Hey there, doll. Why don't we make this nice and easy?" His voice sounded like a kazoo made out of sandpaper; wheezy and scratchy and a tad too high-pitched.</p><p>Normally, this would be the moment she would grab her mace, spray, and run; but then she remembered the five-hundred-year-old genocidal bloodsucker creeping unseen behind this lunatic. Better the devil you know and all that.</p><p>"Hello."</p><p>The man jumped and pointed his weapon as Dracula materialized out of the shadows. "Where the fuck did you come from?"</p><p>"Wallachia."</p><p>"Bless you." Roxana couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth and when he gave her an incredulous look, she just put a hand up in apology. </p><p>"Shut up, both of you, and give me what you've got." He waved the blade back and forth between the pair them. "Or I'll slice y'all right up!"</p><p>Dracula and Roxana exchanged looks. He took a deep breath and stepped towards the man. "Let's make a deal, hm? I'll give you what you want, if you give me what I want?"</p><p>"What? You crazy, old man?"</p><p>"No, no, not crazy, just a businessman." He smirked, "What do they say? Quid pro quo?"</p><p>"Well whatchu want then?"</p><p>"It's very simple, actually, I just need you to say 'yes'."</p><p>The man looked bewildered and faltered his grip a bit on the knife, "Why the fuck-?"</p><p>"Have you been drinking? On any drugs?"</p><p>"What're you a cop?</p><p>"No. I just don't like the taste." The count gave him a look and the man slowly shook his head. Compelled almost. "Good, now, back to business."</p><p>Dracula took another step closer and pulled out a rolled-up wad of money, raising his eyebrows and wagging it in the air. The guy gulped audibly, not able to take his eyes off of the prize cash.</p><p>"What…what did you want again?"</p><p>The vampire lowered his voice, "Just say 'yes'."</p><p>"…Yes?"</p><p>The tension was thick. Dracula smirked as he glanced over to see Roxana staring at them, her wide eyes with rapt attention. Oh he hoped she would enjoy the show. "That's good enough for me."</p><p>Frozen in horror, she watched as his eyes filled with a dark red, and his teeth extended to frightening lengths. He launched at the man with the knife and slapped the blade away, gripping the mortal effortlessly and latching his jaw around the tender neck. Sounds of hissing and slurping and growling battled the poor guy's cries of terror which bounced and echoed across the buildings.</p><p>She wasn't sure she could move even if she tried. Roxana just stood there and dumbly stared as Dracula drank his fill. After a few moments, she didn't know because time appeared to stand still, he looked to be finally sated. The count detached himself by brutally ripping out part of the muscle in the man's neck, making a show of spitting it across the sidewalk, and then tossed the body to the side like a useless rag doll. Even in the dark of the night, she could still see the smear of blood across his mouth and the pointy white teeth from his devilish grin.</p><p>He put the wad of money back in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at his cheek, acting as if nothing ever happened. Noting her shock, he just rose a single brow, "What?"</p><p>"What?" She mumbled and then shook her head roughly, snapping herself out of the daze. "<em>What?! </em>What do you mean? The fuck was <em>that?!</em>"</p><p>"<em>He said yes</em>. Verbal consent."</p><p>"You have <em>no</em> concept of what consent actually is."</p><p>"Oh come on, he was going to stab you, I saved your life." He stepped towards her and she could clearly see the blood now, it even tainted his teeth. She could smell it.</p><p>"You're a monster."</p><p>Dracula took another step into her personal space. "That's a terrible way to show gratitude."</p><p>The image began to repeat in her mind of his teeth tearing so viciously into the flesh and the blood dripping from the count's chin as he rolled his eyes back in ecstasy. Over and over and over again.</p><p>He noticed she had paled significantly and got a glazed look in her eyes, "Are you alright? You're not looking so well."</p><p>She felt it churn in her stomach and claw up her throat, and without any attempt to stop the inevitable, Roxana promptly vomited all over Count Dracula's fancy suit.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Red and Blues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In hindsight, Roxana probably shouldn't have had three strongly poured bloody marys. She should have switched to something less filling after a big meal; like a vodka soda, if she felt like keeping to the same liquor, or a gin and tonic to stir things up. Unfortunately, all the tomato juice and grits and bread and sausage and eggs did <em>not</em> mix well with the sight of someone's throat being literally torn open.</p>
<p>It was nasty, but at least now she could jot down <em>'successfully grossed out a five-hundred-something-year-old vampire'</em> in her list of lifetime achievements.</p>
<p>"Well, that was…unexpected." Dracula said after a moment, his hands hung in the air like they were held up by marionette strings, "<em>Revolting</em>, yes, but I have to admit, this is a first."</p>
<p>"I…um, I <em>would</em> apologize, but -"</p>
<p>"Yes, you <em>should</em> be sorry! This is an <em>Ermenegildo Zegna.</em>" He growled lowly and the Italian name slid off his tongue in such a way that it sent shivers down her spine. Not entirely unpleasant ones, she'd be loath to admit.</p>
<p>"Who cares about a suit? You just ended that man's life!" She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and took a few steps back to distance herself from the vampire. "Besides, you clearly can afford another one."</p>
<p>Dracula rolled his eyes and sighed, his hands now working on their own accord as he began to carefully peel the ruined jacket away from his body. "It's not about the money, Roxana, it's about the craftsmanship and quality of the items; think of the countless hours spent meticulously sewing and sizing each individual article of clothing. All of that dedication and hard work tossed away just because you can't stomach a little bit of blood."</p>
<p>"Unbelievable." She began to pace in a small circle, dragging her nails quite viciously and repeatedly through her unruly locks. "You care more about some bits of fabric than a human being's life."</p>
<p>After shaking off the chunks from the coat, he placed it sloppily over the corpse and started working on his vest. <em>There</em> was that ferocity that he recognized in her, it reminded him of Agatha, and it was that Van Helsing fire that was not so easily snubbed. "You will come to learn, my dear, that death is part of the journey. It is the finished masterpiece. Think of it as your magnum opus! It is the very thing that defines the meaning of every life and is nothing that you should be afraid of."</p>
<p>"You're missing my point completely and, <em>for the record</em>, I'm not scared of death."</p>
<p>Dracula was relieved to find the button-up shirt underneath his vest to be unscathed, but also a little more than slightly intrigued by her statement. He would, how they say, <em>put a pin in it </em>and return back to that later. "Then why are you so upset? It's not like you knew him."</p>
<p>She groaned and threw up her hands in exasperation. Roxana was not about to try and teach an old vampire new moral tricks, that was well above her pay grade.</p>
<p>Rolling up his sleeves, the Count set out to retrieve his belongings from the pockets of his jacket and then fitted the dirtied clothes onto the dead body. For the final touch, he slid his Ray Bans over the man's glassy eyes. "Ah, good enough, I suppose."</p>
<p>Dracula took a step back to view his handiwork while absentmindedly wiped the remaining blood from his face. Roxana stopped her pacing to stare dumbly at the sight before her. The mugger was propped up against the wall with his head drooped down to the side, covering the neck wound so it looked like someone who had little too much fun and passed out on the sidewalk. Not an entirely uncommon sight in this city.</p>
<p>"Please tell me you're not just going to leave him here."</p>
<p>He looked at her with raised brows, "And what would you have me do?"</p>
<p>"Clean up after yourself!" Roxana cried out. The adrenaline rush she got from witnessing a murder had not completely dissipated so now she was left grasping a bout of minor hysteria. "I would think that would be obvious!"</p>
<p>Dracula laughed, "That's rich coming from someone who just upchucked her dinner all over one of my finest suits!"</p>
<p>"Because <em>you</em> decided to floss your teeth with some dude's carotid artery."</p>
<p>"<em>Why</em> are you surprised? You know what I am!"</p>
<p>"Well, excuse me if I was a little caught off guard because it's a hell of a lot different seeing a vampire up close and in action as opposed to a tiny, shitty computer screen!" She was nearly shouting, oblivious to the desperation in her own voice as he drew closer. Her neck craned upwards to try and boldly keep eye contact while his grin grew to make him look like the cat who caught the canary. "Stop smiling like that!"</p>
<p>"Make me." His tone was teasingly low, those eyes wicked and sharp. She noticed how <em>lively</em> Dracula looked after he fed. It was unsettling.</p>
<p>WHOOP! WHOOP!</p>
<p>They jumped apart as sirens suddenly yipped at them and a bright flashlight waved back and forth between their faces. The dark street was instantly flooded by the red and blues spinning on top of the police car.</p>
<p>"Oh, fuck me." She murmured with wide eyes. Her hands instinctively started to raise a little before she forced them back down, reminding herself to act casual.</p>
<p>Dracula leaned over slightly, "Is that an invitation?"</p>
<p>"<em>Please</em> shut up." She hissed back, shooting him a glare. "And no, it's <em>not</em>."</p>
<p>He made a facial shrug and then smirked, tossing her a casual little wink just to rile her up. The short, frustrated huff he got in return was satisfying enough.</p>
<p>"Everything all right here?" The cop rolled down his window and peered out at them. "And how about your friend over there? He's not looking so great."</p>
<p>The light shined over the dead guy leaning against the wall and the pair froze, glancing at one another.</p>
<p>This was her moment, she could tell the officer about the murder and maybe he could protect her against…the vampire. <em>Oh, who was she kidding?</em> Dracula would quicker snap her neck and drain the officer before risking the chance of exposure like that.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, her inner moral soldiers battled fiercely inside her brain over whether or not she should even say something about the murder. On the one hand, the count was a vicious blood-sucker who killed a man in a blink of the eye without any remorse, but on the other hand, it was <em>technically</em> self-defense…on her behalf anyway.</p>
<p>Logic eventually won when she realized that even if she did rat him out, it was highly unlikely the cop would even believe the truth. She would sound like a crazy person. The mental image of Dracula laughing and waving while she, hands uncomfortably cuffed behind her back, watched on with teary eyes as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance because the cruiser she was detained in drove off to the nearest prison…or an insane asylum. Whichever was closest.</p>
<p>Be killed or incarcerated? Neither were ideal. So Roxana went for door number three instead.</p>
<p>Dracula saw the look on her face. The look of a scared little rabbit getting ready to bolt. He had already tensed in preparation for her to make a sudden move but, to his surprise, that peculiar look vanished and Roxana smiled.</p>
<p>"All good here, officer! And yes, unfortunately this drunk pleb is with us. We were just about to get a ride back to the airbnb, sir." She shrugged her shoulders with a laugh. "It was his first time on Bourbon Street."</p>
<p>"Yes, I do believe he had one too many <em>bloodys</em>," Dracula was pleasantly surprised by her change in demeanor and happily played along. "Poor man vomited all over himself before we could find him a bin. <em>Such a lightweight</em>."</p>
<p>The officer squinted a little and they waited with bated breaths as he took a moment, which really felt like ages, to decide whether or not he believed their story.</p>
<p>"Alright then," He said at length and pointed to Dracula, "You make sure they get home safe now, ya hear?"</p>
<p>Roxana's eyebrows rose in disbelief while the Count grinned toothily, stepping over to her. She felt his hand slide up her spine and rest in a light grip around the back of her neck. "Of course, officer. <em>I'll take care of them</em>."</p>
<p>With a nod, the cop turned off his lights and drove back down the street, making a left at the next corner. Roxana let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and dropped her shoulders.</p>
<p>That was a close call.</p>
<p>"My, my, your heart is <em>racing</em>, Roxana." Dracula murmured into the darkness that had enveloped them once more. His thumb brushed over her pulse point and he was thrilled when it spiked at the touch. She went to move away but halted her step when she felt his grip tighten, those claws threatening to make a cut. He turned her to face him and firmly, but gently tilted her head back to force her to meet his stare.</p>
<p>"That was your chance. Why didn't you say anything?"</p>
<p>"Please," She scoffed and jutted her chin out defiantly, "We both know it would've been pointless."</p>
<p>"Still," He spoke softly, his head angling back as he observed her, "You could have told the police officer the truth."</p>
<p>"And have you kill us both? I think not. Remember, the foundation showed me those videos and I know you're immune to bullets. So what good would that have done me?"</p>
<p>Dracula stared at her for a moment and then wetted his lips slowly before speaking, inching closer and closer towards her face. "For the last time, I'm not killing you yet because I wish to get to know you, but if you keep bringing it up, I might feel inclined to change that timeframe."</p>
<p>"Well are you going to be this intolerable all the time? Because if so, then just get on with it, I'm in no mood to play a long con here, big guy."</p>
<p>"No, I do believe the fun has just begun."</p>
<p>"Great. Just great." Roxana was truly done. She could still taste the bile on her tongue like acid, it made her feel disgusting, and she wanted nothing more than the day to end. "Now, if you'll let me go, I'm in desperate need of a shower, a toothbrush, and a bed. Maybe a nightcap too because the last twenty-four hours of my life have been absolutely fucked."</p>
<p>Acquiescing her request, Dracula released his grip and allowed her to distance herself from him once more. He watched as she dragged a hand down her face and heaved a sigh; her blue eyes almost shined in the darkness up at him as she gave him a tired half-assed glare. She then turned and started walking towards Canal Street.</p>
<p>"Where are you going?"</p>
<p>"Home." She called over her shoulder, her manners be damned. "Goodnight, Dracula."</p>
<p>The Count gawked when she didn't even give him a second glance and he did nothing but watch as she made her way to the end of the street and disappeared around the corner. He truly did not understand that woman. Perhaps it was ingrained in the Van Helsing blood to be habitually nonplussed by his vampiric prowess.</p>
<p>He pulled out his cell phone with a sigh as his thoughts drifted to the dead man wearing his now-ruined five-thousand-dollar suit and about a quart of said Van Helsing's DNA. Dracula needed to get rid of that evidence before it came back and bit him in the ass. No pun intended.</p>
<p>"Hello, my lord, how was your day today?" Renfield sounded chipper as ever.</p>
<p>"I need you to dispose of a body."</p>
<p>Dracula grinned from ear to ear as he listened delightfully to the unfiltered frustration in Frank Renfield's long-suffering sigh.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p><em>What a day,</em> Roxana thought as she shuffled onto the streetcar and plopped down in one of the wooden seats. With a lurch, the machine squealed and rattled as it moved forward along the track. She winced; the benches on these particular modes of transportation were incredibly unforgiving on one's posterior.</p>
<p>Blankly, she stared into nothing, not paying attention as the buildings passed by. The events of the night played on repeat in her mind. A real vampire killed a real person right before her eyes. Was this <em>really</em> real life now? She was too exhausted to try and figure it out.</p>
<p>She felt like an outsider looking in on her body as it ran on autopilot. Her hand pulled the string to stop the car and somehow her feet managed to take her all the way to her front step without incident.</p>
<p>Fifolet meowed at her incessantly by the door but it sounded muted and far away as she unlocked it. Robotically, she made a beeline to the bathroom and shed her clothes along the way. Not even waiting for the water to warm up, Roxana stood unflinchingly under the cold spray and began to clean herself as the temperature increased to the cusp of scalding. She scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was red and raw. When she was finished, she pressed her forehead against the tiled wall and closed her eyes, simply listening to the water roar around her.</p>
<p>Without thinking, she lifted her hand up to gently wrap her fingers around her neck and couldn't stop her mind from wandering…from remembering the distinct sensation of <em>another</em> hand. <em>His hand</em>. She could almost still feel the vast expanse of his palm grasping her jugular and those impossibly long fingers curling nearly all the way around. Or how he leaned so close until he was just a breath away and anytime she would inhale, those fingers would tighten ever-so-slightly against her flesh.</p>
<p>Roxana's eyes shot open and she dropped her hand like it was on fire. Goosebumps lit up her arms and legs, despite the scorching water. Slamming the nozzle off, she threw back the curtains and began to dry off with furious gusto.</p>
<p>He was a vile creature. A feral beast. <em>Not even human. </em>The mere memory of his hands on her should be enough to appall her entirely. It must be delirium, she thought stubbornly, shaking the abhorrently traitorous images from her mind. She wrapped the towel around her head and strode towards the bedroom.</p>
<p>"I just need to go the fuck to sleep." Roxana muttered to herself and swiped the half-empty bottle of bourbon from the counter on her way. She collapsed onto the bed once she reached it, but sleep did not find her. Instead, she laid awake through the early hours of the morning, watching the ceiling fan spin on and on and on. She steadily knocked back the remainder of the liquor until the corners of her visions blurred and her eyelids became too heavy to keep open.</p>
<p>By the time the sun had risen in the sky, the bottle had rolled underneath her bed, long since emptied, and her light snores could be heard along with the chirping birdsongs. Fifolet patted over and curled up next to the woman, resting her paw gently on her outstretched arm and knowing that her human would be needing comfort now more than ever before.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>The rest of the week flew by without any sort of <em>batty</em> drama and Roxana was grateful for it. She had a light workload with only two dinners scheduled and each went off without a hitch. All felt to be back to normal within her world. The weather wasn't comfortable yet, unfortunately, so she spent most of her free time relaxing at home. Not that she was using the cold as an excuse to stay inside and away from a certain someone. Nope, not a chance.</p>
<p>After that night, she had woken up with a righteous hangover and truly believed she had made up everything that had occurred in those twenty-four hours, but the textual evidence on her phone proved otherwise. Dracula had messaged her just once, to make sure she had made it home after their encounter, which she had to begrudgingly admit was rather sweet. Other than that, she was surprised to hear nothing more from the Count.</p>
<p>Roxana was cherishing the peace and quiet while she could. She knew that this whole interaction with Dracula was almost one-hundred-percent going to end up with her premature death. It wasn't hard to understand that hanging out with vampires and certain mortal peril basically went hand in hand. Not to mention the pesky fact about her being directly tied to a bloodline of women who had quite a lot to do with this ancient warlord and, spoiler alert, both of those women were killed...<em>by him. </em>So she intended to enjoy the calm before the storm.</p>
<p>Her phone went off next to her as she was boiling a pot of water for her own dinner and she saw an unknown number flash up at her.</p>
<p>"Hello?"</p>
<p>"Ah Miss von Hels, this is Keres Grimaldi. How I appreciate you taking the time as I am sure you must be terribly busy." The cold, feminine voice on the other line was not who Roxana had expected.</p>
<p>She blinked and then glanced around. The only plans she had this evening were drinking a bottle or two of wine, eating pasta, and watching some mind-numbing sitcoms. Yes, she was <em>terribly</em> busy. "Oh, no, not a problem at all. What can I do for you, Miss Grimaldi?"</p>
<p>"I would like to go over some of the details for this upcoming dinner." Keres' tone was icy and authoritative, leaving no room for nonsense or frivolous chatter. Roxana had a hard time imagining this woman throwing any sort of convivial party. "First, I believe you are aware of the delicate situation I am in, as head of the council, and the reason I chose your restaurant as the location once more is that I know that you will handle these delicacies with the same discretion you do with all of your soirees. Your clientele is famous and you appear to have the subtlety to maintain secrecy."</p>
<p>Roxana could not tell if this woman was being deliberately facetious or if she just always had the demeanor of a robotic bitch. Realizing very quickly that she wasn't about to get many words in, the chef put the phone on speaker and began to record the conversation so she could go back over it later to write the details down in her schedule. <em>Work smarter, not harder.</em> With a smile, she continued stirring the sauce as Keres plowed onward with her demands.</p>
<p>"The dinner will take place on the last Friday of the month, just two weeks before Mardi Gras. We shall be seating ten and you will provide meals for only five. It will be just you there and no other employees during the dinner, absolutely no exceptions."</p>
<p>"Okay, I'll have them leave before the clients arrive. You understand that includes my valet, right?"</p>
<p>"Yes, the transportation will be taken care of, therefore parking will not be an issue."</p>
<p>Strange, Roxana thought to herself while pouring the pasta into the strainer. "That works. Anything else? Dietary restrictions?"</p>
<p>As the words left her mouth, she winced and silence filled the room. It was a perfectly normal question under any other circumstance, but perhaps not this one.</p>
<p>"I noticed the other night that you seemed to be familiar with Mr. Balaur."</p>
<p>"I…um," She wasn't sure how she should answer the woman, "It was the first time I had met him, but I guess you could say we have mutual acquaintances."</p>
<p>"Miss von Hels, you are aware of his vampiric nature, are you not?" Well, Keres was certainly <em>not</em> tiptoeing around the subject.</p>
<p>"…Yes."</p>
<p>"Good, that's one less tedious explanation. I will provide the necessary dietary requirements, so you need not worry yourself over that. As for the mayor and his partners, you will want to contact them and decide on a menu that will suit <em>their</em> needs."</p>
<p>"Easy." She poured another glass of wine and took a long drink. "Anything else?"</p>
<p>The line was quiet for a moment and she had to check to make sure the call hadn't ended before Keres spoke up, "No, that will be all for now, Miss von Hels. Thank you for your time."</p>
<p>"Thank you for calling, Miss Grimaldi, I hope you have a great rest of your evening." Roxana really appreciated the clients who were straight to the point, for it was often a headache to deal with indecisive people.</p>
<p>"One more thing," Keres' voice made her hand stop midway from pressing the end button, "Watch yourself around him. I've spent some time with Mr. Balaur in the last few years and I have never seen him look the way he did at you and this concerns me, not for your wellbeing of course, but for the future of our council. I will not have him go feral again, not under my watch, so if you know what is best for yourself, I would advise you to attempt to maintain a distance and use the utmost caution."</p>
<p>This caught Roxana off guard and her brows furrowed, "Then why are you having the dinner at Sanguine, if you are so concerned about this?"</p>
<p>Keres let out a laugh and it was anything but joyful. It lasted a beat too long for something that couldn't even be considered humorous and continued to send chills fluttering down Roxana's neck with a foreboding sense of danger.</p>
<p>"Oh, I know better by now than to try and take his toys away."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Twelfth Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, sorry for the super long delay, life is crazy nowadays. Here's a super long chapter for your patience! Hope y'all enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sanguine looked different in the daylight. The shadows in which it hid were not so prominent underneath the bright sun. Dracula took notice of how well the dark tones of the exterior blended with the hanging branches of the oak trees. It wasn't as foreboding in the gentle light. In fact, it was actually oddly comforting; there was something reassuring in its darkness.</p><p>Dracula took a deep breath, if only just to smell the jasmine flowers lingering in the air, and smiled. He leisurely strolled down the crooked sidewalk towards the restaurant. He didn't know if she was there nor did he think of if they were even open; he just went ahead and made his way to the entrance, taking the unlocked doors as a good enough invitation. Not that it was important or anything, but he had already been welcomed in previously. It was more of an attempt to be polite, common courtesy, and…dare he even think it, kindness.</p><p>Perhaps eating people in the South was starting to rub off on him. Though, he was irrevocably grateful not to accumulate the accent.</p><p>Silently, he entered the establishment. The front entry was dark but there was a sweet aroma wafting from the kitchen and he could hear the sound of music playing softly in the background.</p><p>She must be cooking.</p><p>The music grew louder as Dracula made his way towards the back, pausing at the doorway. Her back was to him, she was swaying back and forth, fixing up some sort of dessert, and blissfully ignorant to the creature of the night that crept up behind her.</p><p>"Smells delicious." He commented lightly, leaning against the door jam. Roxana jumped and gave a strangled yelp, spinning around with wide eyes. She held the sifter up like a weapon, the powdered sugar that she had been using was now spattered all over her. Once she saw the owner of the voice, however, her face dropped into that of a furious glare.</p><p>"For fuck's sake, Dracula!" She groaned in dismay, placing a hand on her forehead while he fought a laugh. "You need a bell."</p><p>"Perhaps if you paid more attention to your surroundings, you wouldn't be so easily startled."</p><p>Roxana sighed, "Why are you even here?"</p><p>The Count just shrugged and gave her that unnerving smile. He was bored, but he wasn't about to let her know that.</p><p>She rolled her eyes and returned to the task at hand. He made his way over to her side, curious as to what she was so focused on. Before them was a large platter filled with golden pastries of some sort, piled high, there had to have been a dozen or so. She was topping them off with a dusting of powdered sugar as they cooled.</p><p>"What's this?"</p><p>"Beignets." She spoke, refusing to look at the vampire who had moved closer. He hovered over her shoulder, perfectly content with encroaching on her personal space.</p><p>Finishing up, Roxana wiped off the counter and tried to clean the remaining sugar from her shirt. It was futile as the powder just continued to seep into the fabric. With a huff, she unbuttoned the chef jacket and tossed it in a bin, making a mental note to have it washed later.</p><p>She had been baking several batches of beignets all day. It was Twelfth Night; a special holiday in New Orleans and the only day that Roxana made these particular pastries. Every year, she would whip up a platter-full and bring them all to her favorite bar so her friends could enjoy while they celebrate together.</p><p>After washing her hands, she wrapped the platter up for transport before finally turning to address the annoying bat in the room.</p><p>"Alright, what is it?"</p><p>Dracula looked at her innocently, hands in the pockets of yet another immaculately fitted suit.</p><p>"Do you need something or are you just here to keep tabs on me?"</p><p>"I was in the neighborhood." He said with a shrug.</p><p>"You're not a very good liar."</p><p>He had the audacity to look affronted and placed a clawed hand on his chest, "Ouch."</p><p>Roxana glanced at the clock on the wall behind his head. She knew that Al would be there any minute to pick her up and she needed to get the vampire out before that happened.</p><p>"Well, as much as I adore your company, Count," She said sarcastically, looking back into his onyx gaze, "I actually have somewhere to be. So if you would, please…"</p><p>She gestured towards the door, but Dracula didn't move an inch. He just tilted his head slightly and a smile spread across his lips, just barely showing the sharp teeth beneath.</p><p>"What?" Roxana snapped, exasperated with his stare.</p><p>The Count's grin widened slightly, "It's just curious."</p><p>"What is?"</p><p>"That this time around you're a chef."</p><p>There was a pause and Roxana furrowed her brow in confusion, "I'm not sure I follow…"</p><p>He slowly circled her, taking one large step after another, like a panther stalking its prey. Not baiting him, Roxana just crossed her arms and tensely waited for him to quit his theatrics.</p><p>"You see, dearest Roxana, the first Van Helsing I came across was Sister Agatha, a rather fiery nun from a convent in Budapest, I believe it was. She was full of repressed desires, finding interest in all things darkly supernatural. Agatha was...truly one of a kind. Sharp as a knife too!"</p><p>Roxana narrowed her eyes. Was it just her or did he sound almost nostalgic?</p><p>The Count continued on with a humorless laugh, "Yes, she...ah, taught me a thing or two. But then she had to go and blow up the ship, sinking herself into the bottom of the ocean. No matter. Her spirit popped up again in the form of a Doctor. Zoe was cynical to boot. As a scientist, it made sense, for she didn't truly believe something until there was foolproof evidence."</p><p>He came to a stop in front of her and motioned to himself.</p><p>"Must've been quite the shock to see me strolling out of the depths of the dark water, hm?" He smirked.</p><p>"It'd be a shock if you could wrap up this story soon." Roxana muttered, eyeing the time.</p><p>His head tilted to the side, "Do you have somewhere you need to be?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Where?"</p><p>"I'm not telling you."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>She groaned, running a hand through her hair in frustration. This was going nowhere. He was nothing more than a child wearing the suit of a giant man…er, bat.</p><p>"Look, my friend is picking me up and we're going out. I would really rather not have a vampire loitering about in my restaurant. So I'd appreciate it if you would please leave, Dracula."</p><p>His eyebrows furrowed and a frown pulled at his lips; he looked like a kid who got their sno-cone knocked out of their hand on a blistering hot and humid day. She bit back her laugh at the thought.</p><p>"HAPPY TWELFTH NIGHT, BABY!" Al's shout rang loudly through the kitchen as the sound of his heavy footfalls came closer from around the corner.</p><p>Oh fuck, she thought as her eyes widened at the vampire and she instinctually grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the back door. Before she could get there, her sous-chef slash best friend let out a high-pitched squeal.</p><p>"Bitch, what! Rox, you brought back Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devilishly Handsome?!"</p><p>Roxana whipped back to face her friend who was looking between her and Dracula with a wide smirk. His eyes glanced pointedly at her hand clutching onto the vampire's arm and she ripped it away as if he was on fire.</p><p>"It's not what it looks like!"</p><p>The moment the words fell from her mouth, Dracula draped his arm around her shoulder and she could just feel the smugness radiating from him.</p><p>"Oh, it is exactly what it looks like." He purred, grinning ear to ear. "Good to see you again."</p><p>Al looked like he was going to explode, his mouth warping stupidly as he tried, and failed, to keep the glee from his face.</p><p>Roxana ducked out of Dracula's embrace and sent her friend a look of warning, making her way over to him. "Don't even start."</p><p>He made a motion with his hand that spoke of keeping his lips zipped, but she knew him far better than that. He would probably wait till later to hound her; most likely when she was too drunk to care because he was a sneaky asshole like that. Good thing she had a particularly high tolerance.</p><p>"What is that?" Dracula appeared at their side, gazing down at the rectangular box in Al's hands.</p><p>"It's a King Cake, baby!" At his dumbfounded look, the New Orleanians immediately took offense. Al gasped dramatically and placed a hand over his heart, almost as if the words had physically struck him, while Roxana looked at the vampire like he'd grown another head.</p><p>"You've never heard of a King Cake? How long have you been down here?" She questioned him incredulously.</p><p>The Count just made a facial shrug. It wasn't like he ate food anyway, so why would he be concerned about some local dessert?</p><p>"Oh my god, I just fucking can't. Let me find out ya boy don't know what a damn King Cake is…" Al grumbled and opened the box, placing it on the table so the three of them had space to hover over it.</p><p>The cake was made up of woven cinnamon and sugared dough that braided together to form a giant circle. A sleek pool of icing covered the entire top and dripped slightly down the sides; over that were layers and layers of purple, green, and gold sprinkles to give it the true Mardi Gras flair.</p><p>It was already sliced up into even little portions. Al took the first piece, glanced at the side, and then gave a huff, "Ain't no baby."</p><p>Roxana smirked and snagged a slice for herself, but before she could check her own piece, she noticed the look of absolute bewilderment on the vampire's face.</p><p>"Baby?"</p><p>"Not an actual child," She laughed at his wary visage, "No, no, it's part of the tradition."</p><p>Dracula's brow furrowed.</p><p>Well, with his aversion to holy symbolism, she supposed it made sense that he didn't understand what Kings Day even was.</p><p>"Okay, you look beyond lost so I'll give you a brief history." Roxana took a bite of her cake - no baby. She chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and continued her bit, "Today is the official start of the Mardi Gras season, or also sometimes known as Carnivale. It is called Twelfth Night because it is precisely twelve days after Christmas; the night that the three kings visited the sweet, little baby Jesus in his manger."</p><p>He grimaced.</p><p>Christianity was still a touchy subject, it seemed.</p><p>"So why a…cake?"</p><p>"It's a symbol of unity; woven in thirds to honor the three kings. The Mardi Gras coloring each have a meaning as well; purple represents justice, green for faith, and gold for power. We like to have fun down here, so we hideaway a small plastic baby inside, and whoever finds the baby receives good fortune!"</p><p>"And the next cake is on them!" Al supplied, already on his third slice and shoving it into his frowning gob as he still had not found the baby. He handed a piece to Dracula. "You have to try it, Dong Phuong makes the best!"</p><p>The Count gave Roxana a side glance to which she just smiled sweetly, "Yes, Mr. Balaur, you simply have to try it!"</p><p>She could see the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenched his teeth tightly.</p><p>"I can't." He bit out, throwing her a dangerous look. Roxana noticed the darkening of his eyes and quickly realized she did not want to be testing the vampire's patience when her dear friend was so near.</p><p>"Shit, I forgot," She gave him a look of mock-concern before turning to Al and intercepting the offered slice, "He's on the Keto diet. Not allowed to have sugar or any sort of pastries."</p><p>Al's eyes grew wide in actual worry, "Oh no, that…that's horrible. I'm so sorry."</p><p>One would've thought that she had told him Dracula's mother had just died with how devastated he was at the news. The Count just shrugged with a placid grin, not knowing what the hell either of them were talking about. </p><p>He had never even heard of such a thing.</p><p>"Yeah, he's trying to cut back a little, huh?" Roxana couldn't resist giving him two small pats on his tummy for emphasis.</p><p>He then understood and was entirely unimpressed by her implication.</p><p>"Oh baby, you look fine!" Al waved his hand and boxed up the remainder of the cake. "Well, we should head out 'cause the crew is waiting on our slow asses."</p><p>Roxana threw on her jacket and grabbed the platter of beignets, but then paused, looking hesitantly at Dracula. She didn't want to be completely rude, but she had to figure out something to say to make him leave. The last thing she needed was for this undead warlord joining them.</p><p>That would be a recipe for disaster.</p><p>"Hey Mr. Balaur, you coming?" Al called out from the doorway.</p><p>Her sous-chef was incredibly efficient in ruining her plans sometimes…or maybe he just had a death wish.</p><p>Dracula gave a non-committal shrug, but she knew better as he turned and threw her a sly grin, "Why yes, I would love to join you all."</p><p>Of course he would, she thought with an internal groan. She sent a quick prayer out to the universe that nothing deadly would take place this evening, but knowing the Count, that was probably nothing more than a pipe dream.</p><p>He bent down and swiped something from the floor that Roxana couldn't quite see from over the mountain of pastries she was carrying. In a move of suspicious chivalry, he held the door open for her and as she went to pass, she saw what he had grabbed.</p><p>Sitting delicately between two of his claws was the tiny, pink plastic baby that Al was so keen on finding in his King Cake. It must have slipped out when he had moved the box.</p><p>A small laugh escaped her as the vampire gave a toothy smile, his brows raising in wicked delight as he tossed it in the bin, "There is no baby."</p><p>~~~</p><p>The car ride was…awkward, but Roxana had to admit she enjoyed how uncomfortable Dracula looked crammed into the backseat of the tiny coupe. His knees were nearly pressed up against his chest as he sat there glaring at her through the mirror.</p><p>Al was blasting some Big Freedia through the half-blown speakers and the Bounce Queen's voice was belting out her iconic song called 'Azz Everywhere'. It consisted of very loud bass and the very repetitive lyrics of the title.</p><p>The Count was not amused.</p><p>Luckily for him, however, the bar was just down the street on Magazine. He only had to suffer through one song before the car was parked and he immediately shuffled out of it, unruffling his suit as he waited for the others to join him.</p><p>The place was smaller than he expected, but New Orleans was known for cramming together as many businesses as possible into one building. There were two floors of apartments stacked above and several people already meandering about on the balconies, their happy chatter filling the streets.</p><p>Roxana quietly asked Al to take the pastries inside so she could have a private word with the other man. Her friend just waggled his eyebrows at her and relieved her of the beignets. She sighed, running a hand through her hair before walking up to the vampire.</p><p>"Now, I know you don't like being told what to do, but will you please just be good tonight?"</p><p>Dracula rose a brow, "I am always on my best behavior."</p><p>"I'm serious," She stepped up to him, hands on her hips, wearing a very stern expression that just tickled him, "If you fuck with my friends, I'll call the foundation in a heartbeat."</p><p>"Is that supposed to frighten me?"</p><p>"It should light some sort of warning fire under your ass."</p><p>The Count placed a hand on her shoulder, claws just barely squeezing her skin through the fabric. She tensed, eyes darting back and forth between his dark gaze and sharp teeth.</p><p>"Roxana, my dear," He drawled, leaning closer with a wicked smile, "I promise not to harm your friends...this evening."</p><p>She rolled her eyes and shrugged his hand away, "I suppose that's the best I'm going to get."</p><p>The vampire's grin widened as he opened the door and gave her a small bow, motioning her in like a gentleman.</p><p>Clearly, nothing more than a veneer.</p><p>Roxana snorted and entered the familiar establishment. Might as well get the evening over with.</p><p>~~~</p><p>The bar was a grungy pit. </p><p>The walls were covered in thousands of stickers in various stages of decay and what little wall showed from beneath was caked with the dried paint of endless graffiti tags. Stacks of board games were piled across the shelves lining the room, almost all had a missing component that basically made them unplayable. Old Christmas lights were strung up haphazardly along the ceiling and lit up the room with strange multi-colored hues.</p><p>It looked like an absolute shit show of a bar.</p><p>Dracula observed his surroundings with disgust, unsure that it even fit the building's safety codes.</p><p>"This place should be condemned."</p><p>Roxana elbowed his side, "You watch your mouth, this place is sacred."</p><p>"Oh my god, Al wasn't kidding, you actually did bring him!" There was a loud squeal and they looked up to see Angeline waving at them from the bar. From the looks of it, she was already down a few margaritas. "Hey there, Mr. Balaur! Fancy seeing you at this joint. Y'all getting into some after work extracurriculars?"</p><p>"What does that even mean?"</p><p>Angeline threw her arms around Roxana, whispering not-so-quietly in her ear, "It means that you're gonna schmooze him and booze him to woo him, baby!"</p><p>She could smell the waft of tequila permeating the younger woman's breath and fought a grimace, settling for awkwardly patting her back instead.</p><p>"Okay, you're having a water. Here, take a beignet too, cher." Roxana guided her back to her seat and gave Eric a smile, "Hey bud, how come you're not as sloshed as our little angel here?"</p><p>The poor kid looked like someone had poisoned his drink. His face, though already quite pasty, had paled considerably as he stared in open horror at the dark figure still lurking behind her.</p><p>"Rox, how come...he's here?" He asked quietly, eyes bouncing back and forth between her and Dracula. Trying, and failing, to not make his fear too obvious. "That dude is bad news."</p><p>She inwardly applauded him for picking up on the evident danger that was the vampire she brought to the bar. Too bad he was going to have to deal with the chilling feeling of pins and needles along his neck for the entire evening.</p><p>"Don't worry about it." Clasping him on the shoulder, she gave the kid her best reassuring smile and then addressed the group, "Guys, this is Dracula, it's a strange name, I know, but let's not tease him too much. Alright? Alright. Now, let's have some shots!"</p><p>After a couple of rounds, her nerves had mellowed dramatically now that various ounces of liquid courage ran like fire through her veins. She loved the rush of tequila. The vicious bite as the liquor hit her tongue followed by the soothing numbness was one of her favorite feelings. It never failed to pick up her mood.</p><p>The bloodsucking creature be damned, Roxana was going to have a fun night.</p><p>They moved the party out back to the courtyard; what the bar lacked in the interior, it made up tenfold in the back. Lights were strung up to illuminate the back patio and there were yard games for days. Anything one could imagine; billiards, pong, table-tennis, giant jenga, darts, cornhole, horseshoes. </p><p>The list went on.</p><p>There was not a more fun time to be had than copious amounts of liquor paired with the natural allure of friendly, or sometimes not-so-friendly, competition. The inhabitants of this particular crew were no strangers to drunken bar games.</p><p>"Alright! Let's break out into teams, shall we?" Al slurred a shout to gain everyone's attention. He waved absently in Roxana's direction, "You and me, bitch, versus them two hooligans!"</p><p>Roxana glanced over at Eric who went pale as a sheet at the thought of going anywhere near Dracula, so she immediately intervened, "No, no, no, cher, we can't have that - it wouldn't be fair. How about me and the big guy, versus you two?"</p><p>They had already sent Angeline home in an Uber, ensuring she was coherent enough to actually make it there. Roxana had to repeatedly insist to her younger friend that there was no shame in calling it quits when someone was too drunk. It happened quite often to her, and she'd be lying if she said it probably wouldn't happen again. Sometimes the liquor just got the best of a person.</p><p>"Are you sure that's fair for them?" Dracula purred into her ear. He had been close to her all evening, not once leaving her side and, to her begrudging enjoyment, he had not even paid the slightest bit of attention towards any of her friends.</p><p>Only her.</p><p>She stubbornly insisted to herself that she was grateful for the attention because it meant less of a threat to her friends. However, she couldn't ignore the pleasant shiver that ran down her back every time they caught eyes.</p><p>"It is as long as you hold off on your batty voodoo." Roxana said, tossing back another shot like it was water.</p><p>This made him curious.</p><p>While her friends had consumed quite a substantial amount of alcohol, they sure as hell weren't holding a candle to what the small woman beside him was pounding down. And she didn't even seem to be phased. It was encouraging to see someone else have an unquenching thirst like his. </p><p>Although he preferred something entirely different, he was still rather impressed.</p><p>Roxana snagged two pool sticks, eyeing them for any bends in the wood or scuffs on the cues before tossing one to Eric, "I'll rack it up."</p><p>Dracula watched with interest as she bent down to retrieve the balls and sorted them into a wooden triangle. From his angle, he had a delightful view of her cleavage and the vampire did not hesitate in sliding over to sit close to her on the table. Pressing a palm down flat onto the felt, he leaned closer under the guise of observing her movements of 'racking'. Whatever that was.</p><p>When she glanced up at him, he felt a peculiar pang in his chest that he didn't understand. She looked so…beautiful at that moment. With the hues of red and orange from the shitty lights hanging above casting her in a hazy glow, he was struck in some sort of spell.</p><p>In a flash, her gaze hardened as she realized how close he had edged over to her, and the spell suddenly lifted. He masked his confusion from the whiplash of strange emotions with an easy smile.</p><p>"Need something?" She asked, straightening up.</p><p>"What is this?"</p><p>"Pool?"</p><p>He glanced around with furrowed brows, "I see no pool here. That'd be disgusting."</p><p>Roxana couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head at the idiotic bat. She pointed to the table, "This is pool, you know, billiards? Shit, do you even know how to play?"</p><p>"I could easily acquire the skill." Dracula licked his lips, dark eyes scanning the people around them as if eyeing some prey. She pushed him off of the table causing him to chuckle and stand beside her, "Alright! Teach me then, it can't be that difficult. You silly humans and your nonsensical pub games."</p><p>"You're just upset that you died before you could enjoy having any sort of drunken fun."</p><p>He looked affronted, placing a hand to his chest, "I'll have you know I'm quite good at games! I used to have a ball seeing how many men I could impale with one toss of the spike. Ah, those were the days."</p><p>Roxana was grateful that Al and Eric were busy taking turns trying to balance their stick on their chins on the other side of the table. Out of earshot.</p><p>"Enough of that now." She muttered to the Count and then grabbed her friends' attention, "Oi, tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, one of you break this."</p><p>As they argued, throwing their hands around in a match of rock, paper, and scissors, Roxana set out explaining the game of pool to the out-of-date vampire. By the time she was done with the rudimentary overview, Al gave a shout of victory and lined up the pool cue for his shot. The rack broke evenly, balls soaring in every which direction across the table, and a stripe sank into a pocket.</p><p>The game had begun.</p><p>Roxana prided herself in being a bit of a pool shark, so she was slightly disappointed when she only got in two solids before scratching. She handed the stick over to Dracula and they watched Eric fumble around before the Count's turn. The valet missed and slurred a slew of expletives, flipping off the table as if it were to blame for his loss of cognitive function. Dracula made his way to the table, copying the position he had seen the others use as he lined up his shot.</p><p>In his peripheral, he spotted Roxana sliding up next to him, reaching out her hands to adjust his stance. He was surprised at her willingness to be in such close proximity and he gathered that the copious amounts of tequila she had imbibed had something to do with it.</p><p>Gently, she wrapped a hand around his forearm, angling and lifting it slightly while the other hand wove his fingers to the correct positioning of balancing the cue between them.</p><p>With a hum of approval, Roxana finally looked up to meet his gaze and noticed how close they were. If she were to just turn her head slightly and lean forward an inch, his lips would be so easy to press against.</p><p>She jumped back quickly, creating a safe distance between the two of them once more and motioned for him to shoot. Dracula blinked, a little dazed himself at the strange pull he suddenly felt. He gave an imperceptible shake of his head and focused on the game.</p><p>When the stick hit the ball, he realized he might've put in a little more force than necessary because the ball shot off the table and bounced halfway across the courtyard.</p><p>"That's a scratch, bitch!" Al screamed with hysterical laughter while Eric ran over to try and capture the errant ball.</p><p>After a few turns, Dracula had become noticeably better, and soon enough, the pair of them were winning every game. The humans did not relent in their intake of alcohol and eventually, Al threw his hands in the air in defeat, swaying liberally back and forth. He was so very clearly plastered as his eyes tried to focus in on Roxana. "I think…I'm done. It's bedtime, bitch."</p><p>"Yeah, same -" Eric started but was abruptly cut off by his own loud hiccup, "S-s-same here!"</p><p>Roxana raised a brow and smirked at the two drunks who were hanging onto each other in an attempt to keep one another upright. It was incredibly amusing.</p><p>"Alright, y'all have a good night, then." She drawled, tossing back yet another shot. The sight made Eric turn a little green. He never understood how she could possibly stomach so much liquor and the mere thought drinking more made his gut turn. Al saluted them and then slung one arm around the younger man, whistling a tune as he dragged them out of the bar.</p><p>"Didn't he drive?"</p><p>Roxana was surprised that Dracula even cared.</p><p>"Yeah, he did. But he also lives one block up, which is why we usually come to this spot. I used to live super close, too." She said with a wistful sigh, "I miss the days of only stumbling a few steps to get back home."</p><p>She placed the cues back up on their rack along the wall and pushed the rest of the balls into the holes, wiping her hands down on her pants as she came to a stop in front of the vampire.</p><p>"And then there were two." Roxana spoke, a small grin lighting her face. "You were actually good tonight. Thank you."</p><p>Dracula shrugged, "I made a promise, did I not?"</p><p>"Yeah, you did." She patted him on the arm, "Great job, bat boy."</p><p>His brow rose but he said nothing to rebuke her comment. If anything, he was endlessly entertained by her constant need to call him names. </p><p>No one had ever dared before.</p><p>"Well, it's getting late and homeboy is about to shut down for the night…" Roxana shrugged on her jacket and swigged back the last shot of tequila that sat on the table, biting into a lime wedge and then tossing it into the empty cup. It must've been the liquor taking action finally because she couldn't stop the next words from flowing out of her mouth, "Would you wanna…walk me home?"</p><p>The Count gazed at her for a moment. Long enough for Roxana to drop her eyes and reach for her purse, fully intending on making a beeline out of the bar and running away from her sudden embarrassment. </p><p>He caught her arm before she could turn and snaked it around his own, tilting his head towards the exit, "Shall we?"</p><p>~~~</p><p>The night was cool and calm underneath the light of the moon. </p><p>A breeze flowed gently through the empty streets and wrapped the pair in its comforting embrace. Roxana loved nights like these, when no one was out and about and the usually bustling city lay dormant in its rest.</p><p>They walked in amicable silence. </p><p>It was pleasant to just simply enjoy the sounds of the night; there weren't many creatures that roamed about in a city like New Orleans, but the tropic region provided plenty of bugs. Although it was a strange tune, the buzzing song that the cicadas sang was calming as they hummed peacefully through the night.</p><p>He noticed that her posture was relaxed and although she wasn't outright stumbling, there was a little sway to her walk that entertained him. It was shocking how easily she had grown accustomed to his presence. Or perhaps she was just drunk, but he'd rather assume the former was true.</p><p>Roxana wandered off the sidewalk slightly, spotting a blooming Southern Magnolia tree. She did a little dance over, plucked a stem, and returned to the Count's side. He watched as she once again tucked the flower into his breast pocket. </p><p>This one was as pale at the moon above, smelling of fresh lemon. </p><p>"Do I still reek of evil?"</p><p>"Nah," She shrugged, "They just bring out your eyes."</p><p>Dracula couldn't help but laugh, the warm sound echoing in the street and bringing a smile to her face. If she didn't know any better, she might've entertained the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She always did have a habit of going for the bad guys in her past, but Roxana drew the line at an actual blood-sucking monster.  </p><p>As they neared her home, she came to a stop just shy of her front porch and turned to look at the Count. "Well, thanks again for, you know..."</p><p>"Not eating your friends?"</p><p>"Yeah, that."</p><p>Dracula stepped closer and lifted his hand. She expected him to grip her around the neck, a strange and unnerving habit of his, but to her surprise, he gently brought her chin between his thumb and forefinger. The soft movement caught her off guard. He raised his own chin, looking down at her, searching for something that she could not possibly begin to fathom. It caused her a bit of apprehension as a toothy grin slowly crept onto his handsome face.</p><p>"My dear, I'm afraid I would find your friends to be rather…flavorless." He murmured lowly, enjoying the instant furrow in her brow, "I am a connoisseur, not a glutton. I prefer not to pick the low hanging fruit. The taste is always…off."</p><p>"Unbelievable!" She ripped herself from his grasp, sending the vampire the meanest glare she could muster and spun on her heel to walk towards the door, "You got some fucking nerve calling my friends flavorless, what a douchey thing to say -"</p><p>But the words died in her throat and her body froze mid-step.</p><p>Dracula was amused by her outburst; he always did enjoy pressing human's buttons. They were such sensitive creatures. But the way she cut herself short drew some concern. </p><p>He followed her steps, craning his neck to try and figure out what had caused her reaction. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"</p><p>Then he smelled it. </p><p>Instantly, his senses were taken over as he felt the pooling in his eyes and the lengthening of his dagger-like teeth making him snarl viciously. His shoulders went rigid as his body unconsciously tensed up, ready to attack. Every single one of his nerve endings was on fire as he fought the urge to consume everything in sight.</p><p>There was blood…and quite a bit of it.</p><p>The crimson liquid trailed from somewhere within her home to the entrance and it led to a red-soaked note nailed to the middle of the front door. Dark lettering read, "WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE - MEET US TOMORROW NIGHT - ST LOUIS CATHEDRAL - BEWARE THE BAT"</p><p>Dracula's growl drew her attention away from the letter and she glanced back with wide-eyes, looking at the vampire in horror. His visage was just as frightening as the sight before them. She took a step back and paused, nearly shrieking when he snapped his jaws at the pool of blood that entered his view.</p><p>He took a few deeps breaths, trying to control his natural inclination to feed, and then realized that the scent wasn't right. Something was different about it and he couldn't quite put a finger on it. Licking his lips, Dracula calmed himself down and Roxana watched as his face slowly returned back to normal.</p><p>"Are you okay?" She asked quietly, "I know you said you wouldn't harm me...but -"</p><p>"I'm fine." He bit out, making her jump. Noticing her palpable fear, the vampire ran a hand through his hair and changed his tone, "My apologies. I'm a bit famished and this caught me off guard."</p><p>"Yeah, you're telling me…" Roxana's eyes crinkled with worry as she gazed back at the scene on her doorstep.</p><p>"The blood is fresh."</p><p>Her bright eyes shot back to him, "What if they're still here?"</p><p>Dracula lifted his brows, "Then I'll be having a nice little snack."</p><p>Rolling her eyes, she went to move towards the door but was stopped mid-step by a clawed hand firmly pulling her back.</p><p>"Ah, ah, ah, I'll be investigating this, my dear." His lips quirked but the smile did not meet his eye, "I'm the immortal one here, remember?"</p><p>The Count carefully pushed open the door and made his way into her home, taking caution of avoiding stepping in the trail of blood. He let his eyes adjust to the darkened interior and listened carefully for any noises of someone inside, but all he could hear was the pounding heartbeat of the woman standing behind him.</p><p>Shame, he thought, it would've been nice to have a bite to eat. </p><p>He really was hungry. </p><p>Ignoring his craving, for now, Dracula reached over to flick on the light and called out to Roxana, "The coast is clear. Those cowards must have run off after slicing one of their hands like an imbecile and - oh, fuck."</p><p>His gaze landed on an object lying in the middle of her living room.</p><p>"What? What happened?" Roxana called, taking a step through the threshold.</p><p>Dracula's put up a hand, "Wait - don't come in!"</p><p>But it was too late. </p><p>Her eyes found the source of the blood and a gut-wrenching moan escaped her lungs as she felt herself collapse onto her knees, staring at the blank gaze of her mangled cat.</p><p>"No, no, no, no, no -" Roxana shook her head, tears pouring from her eyes as she tried to wrap her mind around the brutality that befell her sweet furry friend. </p><p>It was a shocking sight. </p><p>She felt her heart seize up painfully, squeezing so dangerously inside the cavity of her chest that she thought it might actually burst. Roxana didn't even register the tall man swooping down and picking her up into his arms.</p><p>"Breathe, Roxana! You'll be okay, just breathe." He carried her away from the scene of the crime, bringing her outside and placing her down onto the stoop. She was nearly hyperventilating and couldn't even focus on his dark eyes that blocked her vision. He grasped her cheeks, softly stroking his thumbs along her face, urging her to calm down, "Listen to me, deep breaths, alright? Come now, breathe with me."</p><p>He began to inhale and exhale, trying to get her to match his movements. She shakily did the same, closing her eyes tightly and clasping onto his hands.</p><p>"Good, keep going. Just like that." They continued the breathing exercise, in and out, until her gasps slowly faded and her heaving chest eventually evened out. "You're doing very well."</p><p>Roxana finally opened her eyes. If Dracula had a beating heart, it would've surely stopped at the sight of her look of utter despair.</p><p>"They killed my cat."</p><p>He nodded solemnly, bringing a hand up to her hair and stroking it back behind her ear, "I am sorry for your loss."</p><p>After a moment of silence, she spoke up again, her voice raspy, "Are you going to kill them?" </p><p>Again, he nodded and she gave a sigh of relief.</p><p>"Good. I hope they fucking rot."</p><p>"You're not staying here tonight."</p><p>Roxana's eyes glistened but she refused to let more tears fall, "Yeah, I should probably head to Al's. He has an extra couch or floorspace…or something. They're probably passed out, but I know where the spare key is."</p><p>"No," Dracula said, standing up and offering a hand. "You're staying with me."</p><p>"That doesn't seem like a good idea." She eyed it skeptically.</p><p>"Roxana, I'm not allowing you out of my sight until I find who did this." The vampire's tone was sharp and she felt the exhaustion from the evening finally catch up to her.</p><p>With a heavy sigh, she relented, "Fine. I'm too tired to argue with you right now."</p><p>Dracula saw her eyes drooping a little and with a small smirk, he reached down and drew her into his arms again. At her weak attempt to struggle, he tightened his grip and shushed her complaints, "Relax, just go to sleep. I've got you."</p><p>She gave up trying and rested her head against his shoulder. </p><p>The last thing she remembered before an uneasy rest took her away was the faint scent of citronella wafting up from the magnolia flower sticking out of his pocket.</p>
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